Nothing Can Last Forever
by AllyStardust
Summary: As a mage of the Circle Tower, Lara Surana was raised to expect little and managed to receive less. Betrayed by her dearest friend and cast from the Circle Tower to join the Grey Wardens, she must try and do right by the duty that cannot be forsworn. Female Surana / Zevran Arainai fic that will follow and expand upon the events of Dragon Age: Origins.
1. Prologue

Title: 'Nothing Can Last Forever'  
Pairing: Zevran/Female Surana  
Rating: M  
Summary:  
As a mage of the Circle Tower, Lara Surana was raised to expect little and managed to receive less. Betrayed by her dearest friend and cast from the Circle Tower to join the Grey Wardens, she must try and do right by the duty that cannot be forsworn. Female Surana / Zevran Arainai fic that will follow and expand upon the events of Dragon Age: Origins.

Prologue

_'Nothing can last forever,_  
_The sun shines gold_  
_But it must plunge into the sea._  
_The moon gleamed so brightly_  
_But it has disappeared._  
_One day your beloved rages furiously_  
_But the storm will yield to the gentle west wind'_

-Poem on a wall in Pompeii

There were many ways in which a mage could enter the tower. Some came in quietly, sloping after the templars with no words of complaint. Some cried and begged to go home. Some were excited; either because they finally had a place they believed they belonged or because they viewed the tower as some sort of grand adventure.

Lara Surana was dragged in screaming.

Wynne was in the ground floor library, tutoring the apprentices, when she heard the commotion. Muffled screams - which was hardly unusual given some people's ability for setting themselves aflame rather than the appointed wood – but upon further focus she quickly realised that the screams were not ones of panic. They were angry screams, feral and hoarse.

"One moment class, finish your reading." Wynne said as she crossed the room to where one of the younger templars, Gwaren, was watching in the doorway.

"What is going on out there?" She began in a low whisper so as to not further alarm the children who were already clearly unsettled by the sound.

"New mage being brought in. Nothing to worry about."

But just as Gwaren finished speaking there was a shriek that reminded Wynne of a wounded animal more than a child. Kinloch Hold was large but not soundproof; all the apprentices on the floor must have heard the noise.

"Nothing to worry about?" Wynne scoffed. "It hardly sounds like nothing to worry about."

"Greagoir is on his way down to resolve the matter. Back to your lesson, Senior Enchanter."

Wynne did as she was told – though not without trying to gain a look of the child who screamed like a thing possessed. Her attempt was to no avail. Wherever the girl was, she was out of sight.

Despite the assurance that Greagoir would resolve the issue, Wynne spent the rest of the day in a state of unease.

Who was the poor child that screamed and howled? Where had she come from, how had she been discovered?

And what would Greagoir deem necessary in order to resolve the situation?

* * *

When Greagoir had received word from Denerim that they had a new initiate on the way, one who was 'angry and as likely to bite someone as to burn them', he had hoped that her anger might have subsided by the time they reached the tower.

It appeared his luck was as poor as ever though. When the girl arrived she was screaming, despite the make-shift gag the templars had fashioned out of cloth. They put her in one of the cells in the bottom of the tower and there she was left until Greagoir went to decide her fate.

He left it until the next morning. If he went down straight away she would still be in a rage and they would get nowhere. No, he reasoned, better to let the child scream herself out and become close to reasonable. She had not done so thus far- but trapped in a dark cell all by herself? She'd soon tire when it was revealed her screams would get her nowhere.

In the meantime he gleaned the story of her capture from Tomrad and Gwyn, the two templars that had found her in Denerim. She had been easy to find by all accounts. Having escaped from the Alienage she had been involved in a scuffle with a group of lowborn children that had ended with Lara setting fire to one of them.

"It seems an accident," Gwyn had assured him, "We eventually found her back in the Alienage, hiding in a cupboard and crying. Her mother didn't even know she'd been out into the Merchant District."

It was a story he had heard all too many times before. A child discovering their abilities in a moment of panic that ended horribly for everybody involved. This Lara was not the first to have injured another in the discovering of her ability and nor would she be the last.

But it was an unfortunate situation all the same.

* * *

The night stretched on forever. Lara slept little and shivered constantly, the templars had given her a blanket but it was no protection against the dank cold of the cell.

She wanted to go home. She wanted her Ma and the bed they shared, she wanted to be able to reach out and feel her mother's heartbeat in the dark and know there was no reason to be afraid. But trapped beneath the tower there was no warmth to share in on cold nights, no heartbeat or soft breaths to remind her she was not alone.

There was only darkness and her cruel memories.

Each time she closed her eyes she saw the boy's face as the flames licked at it. He had been tall and scruffy, wearing clothes finer than hers but not as grand as the noble children she had seen about Denerim. He had spat at her, hissed 'knife ears' like a swear, grabbed her by the front of her vest and thrown her onto the ground. As she had lain snivelling he had removed a knife from his pocket and laughed to the group of children around him. "Cut a knife-ears with a knife!"

They had all laughed at her and she had felt something stir inside her; a great force of rage that had burst up and out. When the boy placed a hand on her to hold her still, she reached out and screamed as flames burst from her fingertips.

Lara had escaped in the ensuing commotion and the true magnitude of the situation had not hit her until she was safe at home. Only then did she realise what she had done and what that meant. She was a mage, something whispered about in warning tales to children.

She was a mage and she had used magic to harm a human child. She would be dead for certain if anyone found her. Hiding in the back of the wardrobe had seemed like enough- hours had stretched by before Ma found her.

But when Lara followed her out of the wardrobe she saw it was not just her Ma that had been looking for her. She had killed the boy - the flames had burnt away his face. She was a murderer and a mage and if she did not go to the Circle with the templars she would have only death to face.

In later years, Lara would accept it bitterly as a fair punishment.

But that night there was only fear and rage: anger at being taken from her family and fear that every time she closed her eyes a boy with no face would creep up on her and remove her face to replace the one she had burnt from him.

At one point she woke, having drifted into turbulent sleep, and was sure she could feel phantom fingers grabbing at her throat. She flung herself at the door, little nails scraping at the metal as she screamed.

"Let me out! Let me out!"

But her screams went unanswered and her anger gave way to tears. By the time anyone came to see her it was morning and her eyes were puffy from exhaustion and sobbing.

At the sight of the Templars however, she sniffed and stood up. She was a Surana and she was not afraid of these shem! "I want to go home." She said, defiant despite her voice being hoarse from tears and screaming.

The eldest Templar, stood in the centre of the doorway, only shook his head at her demand. "You are a mage, Lara Surana. This is to be your home from now on. Since you were brought here after committing a violent act-"

"I didn't mean to hurt him!" She said. Her hands clenched into fists as the boy's face flickered in her mind's eye.

"Be that as it may, you are to remain here. You have two options to how you do that. You stop with all this shouting and settle in, become an apprentice and learn to control your magic. Or, you can stay down here and be forgotten about."

She wanted to scream at him. To tell him he could leave her down here if he liked- she would find a way to escape all the same. Except, how could she? There was no way out of this cell bar the door. There was no way out except by his means. Her Ma had taught her that, for all her stubbornness, sometimes you had to go along with things to win in the long run. As an elf it was a lesson she'd had to learn young. In later years, it was a lesson Lara cherished as closely as all of her childhood memories.

"I want to be an apprentice."

The templar smiled. "Good. Then let me be the first to welcome you to the Circle of Magi. I am Knight-Commander Greagoir."

* * *

Irving had two bowls of porridge on the desk when Lara was brought into his office. She would always remember the first time she saw him; sitting calm and serene in a room that seemed impossibly large to her then.

"Hello, child," Was how he greeted her- and how he would nearly always greet her after that day. "Welcome to the Circle of Magi."

The templars all but dragged her into the seat opposite him and went to stand guard at the door. She folded her small arms across her chest and scowled. "I want to go home." She had hoped with Greagoir gone this man might prove more likely to listen. Her hope was wasted.

Irving sighed. It was a tale he had heard countless times before from new children brought to the Tower. He had heard it before Lara and he would hear it after. The only real issue was if she would adjust to Circle life or prove to be trouble. Troublesome mages did not last long beneath the ever-watchful gaze of the Templars.

"You can never go home, child. This is your home now- as it is home for all mages."

"I don't _want _to be a mage."

He chuckled, though it was without humour. "I'm afraid we mages don't get much of a say in the matter. You have your gift and you must learn to use it, lest it use you, you understand?"

She didn't. But Lara was stubborn and proud, even at seven years old, and was not about to admit to her lack of understanding. "Yes."

"Good," Irving smiled. "Now, I was just about to have breakfast. Would you care to join me? You've a long day ahead and must be prepared."

* * *

By the time the new mage arrived at her bed, everyone had heard of her; the little elf that had been brought in kicking and screaming like a wild animal. Some apprentices claimed she _was_ an animal, others swore she was a barbarous wilder folk from the Korcari wilds collared and dragged in.

That, Jowan knew, was ridiculous. If she was Chasind she would never have been caught- when had a Chasind mage ever been brought into the tower?

But nobody listened to him at the best of times and currently the rumours were far more exciting than any possible truth. So he went unheard and, throughout the day, the rumours grew. She went from being a screaming child to an abomination they had brought in to kill before it could go on a rampage.

After all the tales, the dull and very normal looking elf that stumbled in after supper was a clear let-down to most of the apprentices. What had originally been an excited huddle eager to see the walking wilder-turned-abomination soon dispersed.

"Just another mage" was the general disappointed sentiment.

Jowan alone remained to watch the new mage. She clambered into bed, robes and all, and pulled the blanket over her head. He wasn't sure what to do. It was quite possible that she wanted to cry - he had cried when he had first been brought in - and if that was the case he should leave her alone. But then, what sort of first night would it be, alone in a strange place? She had, if some of the rumours were true at least, already spent a night down in the cells. That was a bad enough start.

Mind made up, he approached the bunk-bed.

"Um, hello." He began, standing a little way away from the cot so as not to crowd her.

He heard a sniff and then she sat up, pushing the blanket down. Up close she was a fierce thing, wild hair all frizzy about her face and eyes that reminded him of the sunrise as he had been taken away from his home - gold and orange and gleaming. She pursed her thin lips into a tight line and looked him up and down.

"What do you want?"

"I, uh," he glanced down at his feet and shuffled nervously. "I wanted to welcome you to the tower."

Silence. Oh no, perhaps this had been a terrible idea. Perhaps she was going to turn out to be just as mean and callous as the rest of the mages in the tower that taunted him on a regular basis.

When he glanced up at her, he half expected her to be on the brink of laughing at him. Most people were. But this girl had shuffled forwards to the edge of her cot and was eyeing him intensely. What that meant he wasn't sure, but such close scrutiny made him uncomfortable. For a little elf she had a stern way about her that reminded him of the way Senior Enchanters glared if they caught you not paying attention in class.

"Who are you?" She asked a beat before the silence became too awkward.

"Jowan." He held a hand out to her to shake. His mother had always taught him to be polite- before she had considered him a demon anyway.

She ignored his offered hand. "How long have you been here?"

"Two years." He was nine now. Strange to consider how much time had passed since he had first followed the Templars through those doors. His arrival had been much less dramatic than hers, he had followed the Templars without question but with a great deal of snivelling. Looking back on it, he supposed it had not created the best first impression with the other young mages. But, he was seven and had just had everything he had ever known stripped from him, what had they expected?

She hummed, seeming to consider that information. "And you like it here?"

"It's..." He hesitated. The tower was home, for good or ill, but to say he _liked_ it there? "It's not all bad." That much, at least, was true. The food was sometimes good.

She pushed off the edge of the cot and held her hand out to him. She was small and scrappy, all elbows and knees as mother used to say of him. "I'm Lara Surana."

A mage with a last name, that was unusual. Many left theirs behind when they came to the tower, not feeling like a part of their families anymore. Perhaps she would drop her last name too, in time. "Nice to meet you," he said, though he wasn't sure if that much was true or not yet.

"Can you tell me everything you know about this place?" She asked, glancing at the other children in the room. "Everything you know about them?"

It was then Jowan learnt that Lara had a fiercely curious streak. A streak that would not be sated by any amount of knowledge. He told her Niall liked hero stories and she went to ask which his favourite was. He told her the younger templars were softer than the older ones and she went out of her way to find out. She discovered which parts of the library were quiet and spent all her free time there reading book after book. Knowledge was power, according to Lara, and she wanted enough power to make herself safe.

That certainly became the case over the years. After some hiccups in her first few classes, she began to prove herself a tenacious and capable learner. She gained a reputation for being aloof and unpleasant, which was not entirely untrue. To those she decided she disliked, Lara could be scathing at best and cruel at worst.

In the first few weeks after her arrival, one boy called her a 'knife-ears' and, at first, Lara seemed unmoved by his words. But later that day, she tripped him coming down the stairs and he broke his nose and two ribs. It was nothing healing magic could not fix, but Lara had made her point. The fact that nobody was ever able to prove she had done it further solidified the danger she posed.

She never engaged in the petty politics of the circle but seemed to hold herself above and beyond it. The games the other apprentices played she treated with disdain. One time a new girl made the mistake of involving Lara in the pranks and stole her things while she was sleeping. In retaliation, Lara enchanted the girl's possessions with paralysis glyphs that left her immobile every time she tried to touch anything she owned. Usually such pranks went on for a day, maybe more if the war was particularly fierce but Lara continued to torment the girl with glyphs for over a month. After that it was decided Lara did not play fair and was left alone.

Yet, for reasons unknown to him, she had decided that she liked Jowan. She helped him with his magic and her reputation kept him safe from the bullying he had previously endured. Being friends with Lara made things better – he had someone to share in his doubts and worries and the knowledge that anyone who crossed him also crossed Lara meant that he was largely left alone. Despite this though, he was ever conscious that he seemed a poor friend in comparison.

"I don't need you to do anything for me Jowan," she said in exasperation when he eventually raised the issue. "You're my best friend. My brother. That's all I need."

Jowan was too dizzy with the knowledge the little elf considered him family to argue. He told himself he would never do anything to earn her distrust. But life in the Circle was hard. It relied on presenting yourself as strong and controlled, neither of which were Jowan's speciality. If the templars thought he was weak or wild, he would never take his Harrowing. He would be made tranquil, the only thing worse than death.

And each day that passed without it, the thought of being made tranquil weighed heavier on his mind than any thought of loyalty. He began to read the secret books - the ones on blood magic that could not be removed from the library – and started to practise what they spoke of in the dark of night when the other apprentices were asleep.

And then, whilst sneaking about one night just after his twenty second birthday, he met Lily.

And all thoughts of loyalty to Lara were forgotten.


	2. The Harrowing

Summary:

Lara faces her Harrowing and the first day after.

'_Hey brother, do you still believe in one another?  
Hey sister, do you still believe in love I wonder?  
Oh, if the sky comes falling down for you,  
There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do.'_

-Avicii

A hand on her shoulder pulled Lara from sleep. Still half asleep, she shifted towards it, assuming it was Jowan since everyone else knew better than to disturb her in her bed. But as her fingers curled around the hand grabbing at her she felt cold metal not soft flesh and realised her mistake. It was not Jowan. It was a templar.

She bolted upright, blinking the sleep out of her eyes as her hands pushed her wild hair away from her face. Two templars were stood before her bed, holding out her robes and shoes. Lara stood, mind too hazy from sleep to think of asking questions. She pulled on her robes over the tunic she wore for bed and stuffed her feet into her shoes. The rest of the apprentices were still asleep; she could hear the girl that slept above her snoring. Lara had never bothered to learn the name of the girl she slept so close to, she could be a Tevinter Magister and Lara would have been none the wiser.

There was only one reason the templars would be dragging her out of bed in the middle of the night: it was finally time for her to face the Harrowing. Well, good. It was about time as far as she was concerned. She was eager to prove herself and have the threat of the Harrowing removed.

With a nod of assent she followed the templars from the crowded dormitory, only casting a look back to try and catch sight of Jowan. He was in bed and fast asleep, none the wiser to her current state. She was glad to see him there. She'd been hearing strange rumours about him creeping around at nights lately. Of course when she asked him he denied it – and she trusted him more than she trusted Circle gossip - but it was hard not to be a least a little suspicious. He _had _been twitchier than usual lately.

Lara shook her head to clear her distracted thoughts. What did it matter if Jowan was snoring the night away or summoning demons? Right now she had one thing to focus on and it was not her rumour-ridden friend.

She followed the templars up and up and up, past the libraries and the classrooms and the bedrooms of the mages that had already passed their Harrowing.

_Soon I'll be sleeping up here. _

Lara had never entertained the idea that she might fail her Harrowing. It was a test like any other and she had never failed a test before, why should she start now?

The top room of the tower was one of the few rooms unfamiliar to Lara. It was colder up there than she had expected and the walls stretched higher than she had ever seen. When she had first arrived at the tower so long ago, all of the rooms had felt large compared to the cramped confines of her Alienage home. But now the walls of the tower were irritatingly familiar and had long since begun to feel restrictive rather than overwhelming.

The large window that gave a view of the moon was a welcome sight however. The sky was a deep velvet black with stars as bright as embers and the moon seemed too large, too close, as though she could reach out and touch it if she tried. Thanks to Anders the runaway, they were no longer allowed outside for any stretch of time; so Lara took the view of the skyline and drank it in greedily. She could vaguely remember the sky above home the day she was taken – it had been late afternoon and the sun was hidden behind clouds but it was not raining. It had been a lifetime since she had felt rain on her skin. What she wouldn't give to experience it again.

She shrugged the templar's hand off her arm as they reached the centre of the room where Irving, Greagoir and Cullen were waiting for her. It was a test - 'a trial by fire' as Irving was fond of saying - and she was not about to be led to it like some sort of criminal.

"Lara Surana, you have been brought here to undergo your Harrowing."

She closed her eyes and nodded, lest she roll her eyes as Greagoir began to talk at her. He spoke about the Harrowing, about Andraste and the mages and the dangers of magic, as though she had not spent every day for most of her life learning about such things. For thirteen years she had learnt everything there was to know about her gift, her curse, the potential locked within her and the big juicy piece of temptation that she was to demons.

It was old news. But this was obviously a speech that Greagoir had recited a hundred times before– and would continue to recite long after. And after a lifetime of being lectured on variations of the same subject, she had mastered the art of pretending to listen attentively. Greagoir's voice became background chatter while her focus was on watching Irving's face for any sign of worry or doubt.

She believed in herself. But if Irving did not, then there was cause for concern. Though, if the First Enchanter, her own mentor, did not believe her ready then would she even be there? Hopefully not, unless Irving had decided to throw her to the metaphorical wolves.

But as Greagoir turned away from her she saw Irving nod. A small gesture but a hugely reassuring one.

_He knows I can do this. I know I can do this. What have I to fear?_

Lara shook some of the tension from her small frame and turned her full attention to Greagoir as he finished his little speech.

"I am ready." Was all she said.

Irving stepped forward and placed on hand on her shoulder. There were only two people Lara let physically close on a regular basis: Irving and Jowan. There had been others over time that she had allowed close in various ways - Lara was no blushing virgin - but trysts in the cupboards amounted to nothing in the Circle. Her first kiss had been with the runaway Anders, her first tumble with Charlotte Amell. She didn't even _speak _to either of them anymore.

But Jowan and Irving were different. Irving was her mentor, her tutor, as close to a parental figure as she dared allow anyone to be. He only ever touched her shoulder in moments of praise or concern, and she allowed it because his hand always hesitated for a second above her shoulder before touching her, making it her choice whether she let the touch land or not.

Jowan was another matter. She hugged Jowan, she play-fought with Jowan, she tickled and tackled and adored Jowan. Many – Jowan included, she knew – did not understand why. But to her Jowan was family, as familiar as her own skin. He was like a younger brother to her; which was perhaps somewhat odd given that he was both older and bigger than her. But he needed her and in turn, she needed him. That was worth everything in the Circle.

"The Harrowing is a secret out of necessity, child," Irving said as he used the hand on her shoulder to steer her towards the centre of the room where there was a stand with a curved dish with what appeared to be lyrium within it. "All mages must go through this trial by fire. The Fade is a realm of demons and spirits but it bends to your will. Be strong and you will be fine."

"Irving," Greagoir reprimanded. "She must face this alone."

_Typical Templar, begrudging me even a few words of reassurance before I face the abyss._

Lara squared her shoulders and shrugged off Irving's hand in the process. Greagoir wanted her to face it without even a word of guidance, then fine. She walked forwards towards the lyrium, half-listening to the men talking behind her. They were warning her to be careful, warning her that she would be cut down if she failed, but all were words she had heard before. Right now her only focus was the pool of lyrium below her.

She placed her hand above the pool and felt the power brush against her skin like a crackle of lightening. A glow curled around her fist and expanded outwards, until white light was all she could see.

* * *

When the light faded she was stood on a cliff top surrounded by green skies and indistinct images in the distance. The cluster of buildings always visible in the Fade and believed to be the Black City was to her right, and a grotesque statue of a man with mangled arms was to her left. Lara paid little mind to either of them; they were not why she was there.

She rolled up her sleeves to her elbows, as she always did when working, and set off down the only visible path.

On the way she faced only a few minor wisps. She had encountered such spirits before; they were weak and often curious and on more than one occasion she'd had a few follow her about whilst she dreamt. These wisps were different; a challenge set up just like all she would face within this trip. They attacked her, but vicious or not they were still weak spirits and no match for a bolt of ice. '

Ever since the event with the boy in Denerim, Lara had avoided fire spells. Although she had learnt the theory of them as part of her wider elemental study, she had never actively practised them. The memory of the boy having his face burnt off – bolstered by years of nightmares – was enough to put Lara off using fire for good.

Yes, wisps and other spirits she had come to expect from the Fade, but the mouse that scurried out before her next was new. A demon that could change forms? Perhaps, but she thought it unlikely that any powerful demon would take the form of a small rodent.

She raised her hand, ready to strike the creature if needs be; but before she could do anything its shape contorted until it was no longer a mouse, but a man. He was tall and pale with gaunt cheeks and robes she recognized as being of the circle.

"Another soul thrown to the demons, I see." He said as he looked her up and down.

Lara took a few steps back and narrowed her eyes. He was not to be trusted. Nothing in the Fade was to be trusted, demons could be anywhere and hidden as anything. So this shem had circle robes, why should that make him a friend?

"And what would you know about the Harrowing?" She replied, arching an eyebrow in question.

He gestured to his robes. "I was once as you are now: an apprentice of Kinloch Hold."

"And you failed your Harrowing?"

The mage scoffed. "I was too slow and the templar's murdered me. That's what they'll do to you if you take too long, you know."

"I know."

Her abrupt answer gave him pause. He folded his arms across his chest to match her own defiant posture and nodded. "Of course you do, I bet they taunted you with that knowledge before they sent you in here."

Lara shrugged. Greagoir had warned her certainly, but he had hardly _taunted_ her. Fair warning was fair warning in a situation that was otherwise largely unfair. She was eager to pass her Harrowing but she could still acknowledge how unjust the situation was. Deliberately placing a young mage in the way of a demon and threatening them with death if they were not strong enough was a pretty harsh task– but there were worse things about being a mage. '

"There's a demon nearby. A powerful one. The templars have drawn it here just for you" he said, his tone strangely neutral so she could not tell if he was trying to warn her or scare her.

"Did you face your demon or did the templars kill you first?" Lara said, walking past the stranger and further down the path. Around the bend the path broke off into a clearing and, further along, she could just glimpse what seemed to be a man standing by a rack of swords.

"I was killed before I had a chance to face it."

"And you've stayed around for the cheery atmosphere and welcoming company then, I take it?"

He glared down at her. Lara was used to such reactions from people and gave him no mind. He was a blip on her radar, a temporary distraction on her way to her main goal. She would speak with him for a time but if he proved to be of no use she would move on.

"I'm stuck here. With no mortal body to go back to my only option was to try and survive, so I learnt to make myself small and stick to the shadows."

It sounded like a pitiful existence to Lara. She tried to imagine living a life where she was forced to hide, forced to live in the shadows so she could avoid danger and realised, with dread, that it was not too different to living in Kinloch Hold. To survive in the Circle you had to keep your head down and stay out of trouble and hope that was enough to avoid any problems with the templars.

Disquieted by the thought, she walked away from him.

"Wait!" he called after her. "Where are you going?"

"To complete my Harrowing. I've no intention of staying here like you, Mouse" she called over her shoulder.

"Well, hold on. Let me come with you."

"Why would I want you to come with me?"

"Strength in numbers?"

She spun to face him with a snarl of annoyance. It was _her _Harrowing. Was part of it supposed to be tolerating mages that had failed their own? There had been no mention of _that _in the warnings! "You _failed _your Harrowing and now you hide in the Fade as a _mouse. _What strength could you possibly offer me?"

He stumbled to a halt in front of her. "I know this place," he offered. "I can help you navigate it."

Lara did not want help from this stranger. But it seemed easier to just allow it and let him come along, if she argued it would only lead to more delays. "Alright, fine." She agreed and walked away again. "How long were you here before they killed you?"

"I'm not sure." Mouse admitted as he fell into step beside her. "Time is funny here. I'm not even sure how long I've been stuck."

Lara disliked the sound of that. Trapped in the Fade for so long, who was to say what sort of person you could become? She avoided asking what else he'd been forced to do to survive; hiding could not be the worst of it. Instead she quickened her pace, walking past the ominous clearing and onwards to the figure up ahead.

At the sight of more wisps, Mouse promptly turned back into his namesake and hid. Pathetic. Apparently living in the Fade had not made him a better mage.

Once Lara had dealt with them she gave Mouse a dark look and kept moving. "Strength in numbers, indeed."

If he replied, she did not hear it. Her focus was on the presence up ahead which was clearly a spirit. A spirit wearing templar armour- was that its doing or her own will shaping the Fade? The only armour she had ever seen up close was templar armour, so it made sense, but it was always hard to know for certain in a realm shaped by will and thought.

"Another mortal thrown into the flames and left to burn, I see. Your mages have devised a cowardly test – better you prove your metal with skill than to be sent against a demon!" was how the spirit greeted her.

"How do you know why I'm here?"

"You are not the first sent here for such testing. Nor will you be the last, I suspect. That you remain means you have not yet faced your hunter – I wish you a glorious battle yet to come!"

_It seems to have a preoccupation with skill and battle. _"What sort of spirit are you?"

The spirit gestured to the swords behind it. "I am Valour. I hone these weapons in search of the perfect expression of combat."

Lara peered over its shoulder. Well, she'd certainly take Valour over Mouse. And those weapons…She was no warrior, but if he could fashion a staff then perhaps he could still prove of use? "Would one of those weapons harm the demon?"

"Without a doubt! If you believe that they draw blood then they shall, should your will make the need reality. Do you desire one of these weapons? I would agree to part with one should you agree to duel me – a chance to prove your valour in a way greater than the cowardly quest you are on!"

She had been sent to fight a demon and that she was happy to do – but a spirit of valour which was completely focused on battle and glory? She might be able to win but she had no desire to weaken herself trying to find out. No, better to find another way to get it to part with something. "It seems you would rather kill me yourself."

"How dare you accuse me, I am no demon! I do not want to feed on mortals; I am a spirit of honour!" The spirit stepped towards her and she felt the force of its magic against her like sunlight on her skin.

"Then prove it!" She demanded, refusing to be intimidated by a spirit wearing templar armour. "Give me a weapon and help me fight the demon!"

Valour stepped closer and she feared she had pushed too much, that she was about to fight it whether she wanted to or not. But after a few tense seconds of staring, Valour relented and went to grab a staff from the rack. "You are insolent," it grumbled as it held the staff out to her. "But your will is strong. I wish you luck in your coming battles." it added, almost reluctantly.

"Your help is appreciated." The staff was solid and cold in her hands, as real as any she had held in Kinloch Hold despite the fact that it was made of will and belief rather than actual wood.

"I've seen only a few convince that spirit to help before," Mouse whispered to her as they walked away. "That's impressive."

Lara shrugged, not interested in impressing Mouse. "I'll consider it impressive when I find and beat that demon."

The next creature they found _was _a demon, but not the one Lara was there to face. A demon of sloth in the form of a twisted bear that offered to help her if she could answer three riddles. Given that it was such a powerful demon, Lara was just surprised the riddles weren't harder. The reward Sloth gave was not to her but to Mouse – the ability to change his form into a bear.

"It's heavy." He complained as he followed Lara away from Sloth.

"It's powerful." She countered.

Staff in hand, Lara made her way back towards the clearing. There was only one other place that the demon could be and, with a bear that was really a mouse that was really a mage, she felt she was as prepared as she could be.

However, as soon as Lara took two steps into the clearing, fire rose up all around, blocking her exit. Her immediate reaction was to run, to use ice to blast down the fire and flee. But she made herself remain still, clenching her staff so tightly her knuckles turned white from the strain. _Can it know my fear of fire?_

"And so it comes to me at last." A terrible glowing shape rose from the ground; a rage demon made of fire and wrath, it slithered its way towards her. She had never faced one before but she had heard of them: powerful demons, but not as powerful or intelligent as pride and desire. It had brute strength but not much else to boast of – Lara fancied her chances against such a creature.

She raised her staff and held it between her and the monster. "Stay away from me or regret it, demon."

The demon swivelled its pointed head to stare with burning eyes at Mouse. "Oh, have you not told her of our agreement Mouse?"

At first she thought the demon was lying, trying to manipulate her into turning on someone who had, so far, proven a weak but constant presence.

"We don't have an agreement – not anymore!" Mouse replied, and the truth of the situation hit her.

"Wait, you had an agreement with this thing from the beginning?" Lara said, angling herself so she was facing both of them.

"Oh yes, Mouse and I have shared many meals together."

"I'm not sharing anything with you, not anymore! This mage is strong – not like the others – and I don't have to hide from you with her help!" Mouse stepped forwards. Prior to stepping into the clearing she had found his new form reassuring, a sign she would have an ally at her back. Now it seemed she had just aided the enemy.

Had she been a fool and allowed a demon to skulk along beside her? Or had Mouse spoken truly, was he just a lost soul that had resorted to desperate means to survive in the Fade?

Either way, the rage demon had to die. She could always strike Mouse down afterwards. She twisted towards the demon, sending a blast of ice at its face. The creature slunk backwards with a howl of pain and Lara ran away from both of them. Keeping her back to the flames surrounding the clearing and her eyes on the manifestation of rage, she sent power through the staff and an orb of power soared through the air to strike it.

Mouse leapt at the demon and slashed at it with sharp claws, but the thing was focused entirely on Lara. Once it was close enough she lashed out with the end of her staff, keeping it at bay as she quick-stepped backwards around the edge of the clearing. But Lara had never been particularly agile and her feet got caught up in one another, sending her sprawling down onto the not-so-solid ground of the Fade.

She heard the demon's voice in her head as it loomed above her.

"You are weak!" It laughed – if the curling cackle that snapped from the beast could even be called a laugh- and reared back to strike.

Staff forgotten she thrust her hands up and summoned the first spell that came to mind: cold. Ice burst from her fingers in sheets, coating the demon so completely that she could not even see it. Her only reassurance that she was indeed striking it was the howls of pain she could hear.

Her mana almost depleted she summoned one last burst of strength and bolstered her magic. When she stopped at last, the demon crumpled to the ground and faded back to nothing.

Lara lay still and panting. She expected to vanish from the Fade now that she had vanquished the demon but nothing happened. Could that mean her task was not yet done?

"You did it!" Mouse, human once again, appeared above her and offered a hand to help her up. "When you first came I thought…But I never _really _believed."

Lara took the offered hand and allowed him to pull her up. "It seems too easy."

"Because you're powerful!" Mouse said. "In time you could even be a Senior Enchanter with no match, I'm sure. And maybe there's hope in that for someone like me…"

Lara clenched her hands into fists. Defeating the rage demon _had _been too easy and her test was clearly not over or she would no longer be there. "Someone like you?"

_Or __**something**__? _

"Someone little and small and trapped. You've defeated your demon; perhaps you could help me get a foothold in the mortal realm."

She backed away from him, "A foothold?"

"I, oh, you know what I mean!"

"Yes," she said, trying to summon the strength for an ice spell. "I think I do."

Mouse laughed. In that moment, his voice changed. It was no longer high and stuttering and tripping over his words. It was darker, lower, and distinctly less human. "So you have seen through me at last."

His form shifted. Not to a bear or a mouse but to a form she had heard of only in books. Mouse gained twisted purple skin lined with spikes and dark eyes deep set in his face. A pride demon.

"Wonderful." She whispered deadpan and took a few shuffling steps backwards.

"Misconceptions and foolish trust are the true dangers, mage. You have seen through me, but will you see through each betrayal that is to come?"

The white light that had surrounded her before began to build again, blurring the Fade and Mouse from her vision. Before the light took her completely, she heard his voice hiss inside her head.

"Keep your wits about you, mage. True tests never end."

* * *

A hand tugging at her shoulder pulled her from sleep. She rolled towards it and when her fingers closed over the hand it was warm and soft, not a gauntleted fist. A much more reassuring presence, to be sure.

"Jowan?" She whispered without opening her eyes.

"Are you alright?" He said in reply.

She opened her eyes and saw him sitting on the edge of her bed. He was leaning forwards and her hand was still curled around his, gripping his calloused fingers. She sat up, still holding onto him, and leant her head on his shoulder.

"I feel like I got chewed up and spat out." She mumbled, her voice muffled by his robes.

"Was it really that bad?" Jowan asked, his fingers squeezing hers.

She hummed in thought. "Not _really. _I mean, at the time it didn't feel so bad."

Jowan turned towards her a little, so their foreheads were resting together. Over the years it had become a familiar gesture, an easy way to speak quietly without fear of being overheard. "What was it like? I didn't even realise you'd been gone all night."

Up close, the dark shadows beneath Jowan's eyes were prominent. He looked as tired as she felt and without the excuse of the Harrowing to explain it. She remembered what had been said of him. Was he really sneaking around at night and not telling her about it?

"You were snoring away when I left." She said, avoiding his question entirely.

"You know I don't snore." He said quietly.

Strange. Whenever Lara teased him about anything he replied wildly with flailing hand gestures and vehement denials. 'He did _not_ snore!' 'He did _not _have a crush on the girl who sat next to him in creation class!' 'He did _not _set the curtains on fire – the tutor had placed the curtains too close to where he was supposed to be casting!'

For him to deny her usual teasing with such a quiet response might have been unremarkable on its own, but when combined with the dark shadows beneath his eyes and the rumours she'd heard…Lara sat back, thoughts of her Harrowing forgotten. In the past weeks she had been distracted and focused upon herself, worrying that her Harrowing might be soon and wanting to be ready. She had, admittedly, been selfish.

But for there to be such a change in Jowan suggested she had missed something important. "Are you alright?" she asked.

Jowan was staring at something beyond her, a glazed and unfocused look to his gaze. He completely ignored her question. Lara reached up, gently tapping his cheek with her fingertips and he jumped like she'd shocked him.

"What?" He stared at her as though surprised by her presence. How had he become so focused on something else so quickly?

"I asked if you were alright."

"Alright? Oh, yes! I'm fine; just thinking. I haven't had my Harrowing yet and now you've had yours you'll get to move up to the nice mages quarters while I'm stuck here."

"Oh." Lara nodded. That _was _a feasible explanation for his strange behaviour. Jowan had been worrying about his Harrowing – or rather the absence of it – for over a year now.

"There's no reason for them to deny you a Harrowing." Which was true. Jowan was not the best mage Lara had ever seen in her life, but she had seen worse apprentices be made full mages.

"Unless they're planning on making me tranquil."

Jowan said 'tranquil' like most other mages said 'abomination'. As far as he was concerned, being made tranquil was worse than being killed. Lara was inclined to agree, though being made tranquil had always seemed a distant fear to her. Irving had never made any hint she had to worry about failing her Harrowing or being made tranquil and, given that he was First Enchanter, she had taken that as reassurance it was a fate unlikely to befall her. But Jowan was _not _her. He did not have the First Enchanter for a tutor or the strong magical talent that she had – his fear of the brand was a very real one. A fear Lara could not reassure him in since, if the matter was decided, how could she hope to stop the templars without making things worse?

"Don't think like that," she said, instead of offering empty reassurances.

"Oh, that's so easy for _you _to say." He snapped, strangely angry in response to her attempted kindness.

Lara sat back away from him and narrowed her eyes. They never got angry at each other. Well, no, that wasn't true. They had a few months ago. When Jowan had told her his 'exciting' news.

"_Lara!" Jowan dropped into the seat opposite her. "I have something exciting to tell you."_

"_Oh?" She wasn't really listening; she had a chapter to finish in her book and she wanted to get it done before she had to go to her next lesson. The book was on Creation magic, a school she was not particularly skilled in, but she was determined to be at least somewhat knowledgeable in all areas before she faced the Harrowing._

"_Are you listening?"_

"_Mm."_

"_Lara!"_

_She glanced up at him. He looked different and it took her a moment to figure out why. "Have you __**brushed **__your hair?"_

_Jowan patted at his usually lank locks defensively. "Yes. But that's not important! I have great news." He leant forwards and smiled like he had a wonderful secret. "I've met a girl."_

_Lara stared back at him in silent confusion. "You've met plenty of girls. __**I'm **__a girl."_

"_What? No! I mean I've met a girl I like."_

_It took Lara a moment to grasp his meaning and the reason behind the starry-eyed look on his face. "Oh," she said, trying to mask her surprise. "Who is she?"_

"_You don't know her." Jowan assured her quickly. "But that's not the point. I like her and she likes me – isn't that wonderful?"_

"_I don't know her?" Lara found that hard to believe. The Circle wasn't __**that **__big, she'd met most people. And if she didn't know this girl it raised the question of when Jowan had started socialising beyond her. She felt oddly hurt by the notion._

"_It doesn't matter if you know her or not. She's smart and kind and lovely and she likes me!" Jowan was gushing. Jowan did __**not **__gush. Jowan whined and complained and teased and occasionally laughed, Lara had thirteen years of proof of that. _

"_Well if I don't know her then who is she?"_

_He waved a hand at her. "You're getting caught up in things that don't matter! I'm telling you a beautiful girl __**likes**__ me, can't you focus on that?"_

_Lara was struggling to comprehend this situation. "Jowan," she began gently. "I won't say anything. Just tell me who she is."_

_Jowan's smile dropped and he sat back in his chair. "You think I'm lying."_

Lara had been unable to keep the truth from showing on her face. They had fought then. Jowan had been mad that she thought he was lying and Lara had been frustrated that he simply would not just _tell her _who he liked.

The argument had ended in a day of them ignoring each other. Lara had apologized after supper and Jowan had forgiven her, but the girl was never mentioned again. Lara had assumed the matter dealt with.

But now…What was this sudden outburst? Surely not just anxiety over his Harrowing? He'd been worrying about it for over a year and never before had he turned on her like this.

"I'm sorry," Jowan said almost immediately, reaching out for her hand again. "I'm just worried. I shouldn't take it out on you."

_There's something he's not telling me. Could there have been more truth than I thought to this talk of a girl? _"Jowan, is this about that girl you like?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, which only served to highlight the dark shadows beneath them. "The girl that's not real, you mean?"

"I apologized for that-"

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm tired." He stood up, smoothing out the creases in his robes. His hands were shaking. "I just came to tell you that Irving wants to see you."

Lara did not want to go and see Irving. She wanted to go and get breakfast and sit with Jowan, to curl herself around him and apologize for her abruptness, for her selfishness and her disbelief that he had a girlfriend. If she had just been excited for him all those months ago then perhaps he would not be so haggard looking now.

"Thank you for coming to tell me," she said, reaching out to pat his arm. He all but recoiled from her touch. "I'll see you later?"

"Yes," Jowan was already walking away. "See you later."

He left her sitting on her bed feeling small and foolish, pretending not to hear the two apprentices gossiping about them two bunks down.

* * *

**A/N: **Hey guys! Thanks for everyone that has read and favourited/ followed this story so far. Next chapter will finish off the mage origin :)


	3. Betrayal

"_The saddest thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemies."_

-ANONYMOUS

The unease Lara felt at Jowan's mood had not subsided by the time she reached Irving's office. It didn't help that two different apprentices approached her to ask her what was going on with Jowan – people she didn't know, people that she had no idea that Jowan knew. Had she become such an awful friend that strangers knew him better?

Worst of all was Finn. He was not Lara's friend, not exactly, but they had always had a civil sort of relationship since they'd had to work together a few times in Creation studies. "Lara, can I talk to you?" He asked just as she was about to head upstairs.

"Well, I have to go see Irving but if it's urgent-"

"Have you heard what they're saying about Jowan?"

Lara narrowed her eyes at him. What? Finn, who had barely spoken more than two words to Jowan? _He _was asking her about this? "I've heard people think he's sneaking about at night, yes. But I-"

"No, not that blood mage part." Finn lowered his voice, as though that would stop anyone from overhearing when a templar was stood barely two feet away.

Lara stared at him in shock, clenching her hands into fists to stop herself from lashing out at him. "Don't be so ridiculous, Finn." She spat. "Jowan is _not_…He wouldn't! Go back to your books and keep your idiotic rumours to yourself."

"But Lara-"

"No, Finn. No." She hissed and kept walking.

Seeing Cullen only worsened her sour mood. He stopped her with an awkward hello as she reached the top of the stairsand, as much as she wanted to be rude and ignore him, there was no way she could pretend she had not seen him.

"Oh, hello Cullen." She said, trying to summon a smile and failing.

"I just wanted to say, uh, congrats on p-passing your Harrowing. And, while, uh, they picked me as the templar to strike the killing blow if you…Well, if you became an abomination, I'm, um, I'm really glad I didn't have to do that."

Of course. She'd all but forgotten that Cullen had been one of the others present in the Harrowing chamber. He was a nice sort, for a templar, but it was practically public knowledge that he was infatuated with her and Lara wasn't sure how to put a stop to it. She had a nasty feeling it had begun last year when she had been unable to reach a book in the library and had asked him for help; it must have escalated every time she stopped to make small talk. She had only intended to keep him on her good side – she had not wanted him to become besotted with her! A friendly templar was one thing, a smitten templar was another.

Had he been a mage she might have kissed him and moved on and expected him to do the same. But he was a templar, and a shem, and as such, the power balance between them was never going to be a comfortable one. The Maker himself could fall from the sky and peace could come to all of Thedas and there would _still _be no decent conclusion to Cullen's feelings.

"It's alright. I knew things wouldn't go badly." She stepped past him as if to go but he was still looking at her, stupid and hopeful and she couldn't just walk away. "But thank you."

"Oh, it's alright! You've always been so confident – or, uh, so I've heard – and I really would have hated for it to have all gone wrong."

"The feeling is entirely mutual. I have to go meet Irving now but, thank you again Cullen. I'll see you later." She forced another smile and walked away before he could attempt to continue the conversation.

On good days, she could appreciate Cullen for being a nice young man that just happened to be a templar. But thanks to her post-Harrowing-headache and her confusion at Jowan's behaviour, all she could see was the templar insignia on his chest. Best she was away from him.

Arriving at Irving's office and seeing the door open, Lara did not hesitate to step inside. He had made it clear to her over the years that should she want to see him she need only seek him out, andso she had gotten used to entering his office without knocking if the door was open.

But when she stepped inside and saw not only Irving but Greagoir and a complete stranger stood in a huddle, she immediately wished she'd remained outside. The former two ignored her, clearly wrapped up in some argument about the mages that had been sent off to war, but the stranger spotted her immediately.

He was a total Other to Lara. Not dressed in mages robes or Templar plate, he was dark and tall with an impressive beard and ornate weapons strapped to his back. His armour was deep blue and silver with an insignia of two Griffons on the front that was vaguely familiar, though she could not think why. At her entrance he turned to look at her with a frank and assessing gaze – the same way a templar stared at you if you laughed too loudly in the library: with interest and a dash of suspicion.

"Gentlemen, you have a guest." He said, causing an end to the discussion.

"Ah!" Irving turned towards her with a smile. "There you are, child. Do come in."

Lara took a few steps forward and clasped her hands together. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I did indeed. Our newest sister in the Circle!" Irving stepped towards her, squeezing her shoulder for an instant before he turned to face the stranger.

"This is…?" The stranger asked, his gaze still fixed upon her.

"Indeed, this is she."

Lara shifted uncomfortably. She wasn't sure what to make of the fact they had obviously been talking about her. Saying only good things, she hoped.

"I can see you're busy, Irving." Greagoir said as he began to walk towards the door. "We shall discuss this matter later." He left, all but slamming the door behind him. Lara never understood how Irving felt comfortable riling Greagoir; First Enchanter or not, he could doubtlessly be made Tranquil or killed if Greagoir ruled it necessary.

"Of course." Irving said as the door shut. "Now, Lara, this is Duncan of the Grey Wardens. He is recruiting mages to join the king's army at Ostagar."

Ah, a Grey Warden. That explained the insignia on his armour; the Grey Wardens had once flown Griffons into battle, or so the stories she had read claimed - she had seen the image in books before. When she had first read the stories the idea of being a Grey Warden and saving Ferelden from monsters had seemed very exciting.

Now it struck her that this Grey Warden might be a way to get out of the tower. He needed mages for the war? She would gladly go – and Jowan too, of course, perhaps if she refused to go unless he went too it would make Irving approve his Harrowing.

"I would like to defend Ferelden." She said.

"Help from mages is always welcomed against darkspawn, your magic is very effective against large hoards. Which I fear will be needed; if we do not push them back I do not doubt we shall be facing another Blight." The Grey Warden said with a solemn frown.

Lara raised her eyebrows. "A bleak thought."

"Oh Duncan, you're worrying the girl!" Irving laughed. "Do not listen to him child, today is a happy day for you. This is not the time for talk of darkspawn and Blights."

"For a Grey Warden it is _always_ time to worry about Blights."

"Well _she_ is not a Grey Warden, old friend." Irving chuckled.

Old friend?Interesting. Lara had not seen this man before, but Irving seemed familiar with him. Did that mean the Wardens had recruited from the tower before? The last Blight had not been for hundreds of years – far before Irving's time, no matter how old some other apprentices thought he was. That had to mean Duncan had been to the tower for another reason, or Irving had been allowed out into the wide world.

"Now, child, allow me to present you with your robes, your staff and your Circle ring. They are on the desk, feel free to take them to your new quarters and get settled in. The rest of the day is yours." Irving pointed to a pile upon his desk.

"Thank you, First Enchanter." Lara walked past him to the desk.

It was then she spotted the books gathered in a pile; the books on blood magic that were usually in the library. Lara had read them herself, they did not _teach _blood magic exactly so she had never seen fault in reading what they had to offer. But for Irving to have them… What could that mean? It couldn't have anything to do with Finn's nonsense belief about Jowan, could it?

"Child?"

Lara turned to face Irving with a start, embarrassed to realise that he had been talking and she had been oblivious. "Yes?"

"I said that your phylactery has been sent to Denerim."

_My leash, you mean. _"Oh. I see." She could not pretend to be anything other than disquieted at that news. Before, when her phylactery had merely been down in the bottom of the Hold with the others, she had been able to reassure herself that it was least within her reach. Now it was far away. Perhaps it was foolish to let that upset her; even within the tower it had been kept under lock and key.

"Do not sound so unsettled child, it simply means you are a full mage of the Circle." Irving walked over and smiled, speaking quietly enough that Duncan might not have been able to hear were the room not filled with only them. "And I am proud of you."

Irving being proud of her should make her happy. Her whole life since entering the tower had been leading up to this moment yet it was nothing like she had expected. Getting the one thing she had only ever been allowed to want was full of complications, it seemed. Each step she had taken towards it had cost her something and now, stood on the other side, she saw too late the bridge she had burnt to get there. Jowan stood on the other side and thirteen years of friendship with him; left alone to face his Harrowing or the Rite of Tranquillity.

New robes and a ring and praise from an old man seemed poor in comparison. "Thank you, First Enchanter." She whispered, unable to meet his eyes.

"I will let you go, child." He said gently, and she knew he must have picked up on her distress. "Could you show Duncan to his guest room?"

He was giving her something to occupy herself with; that had always been Lara's best way of refocusing herself when distressed. "I will, thank you." She glanced up at him to offer him a smile then hurried away. "If you'd like to follow me, ser, I'll show you to your room."

"Thank you." Duncan said his goodbyes to Irving and followed her out into the hall.

Lara walked beside the Grey Warden, unsure what to in the tower had to look very dullin comparison to battling monsters. "How long are you planning on staying?" She asked, not wanting to walk the whole way in silence.

"A day or two, no more. I cannot afford to be away from Ostagar long."

Lara had read about Ostagar: it was a large and ancient structure that had been the site of a battle long ago – though not against the darkspawn. "It's a fitting place to defend Ferelden from."

"Ah, you know of it then?" He seemed pleased by the notion.

"Oh yes, I know all about the big wide world that I'll never be allowed to see." She said, then bit her tongue. "Sorry. I shouldn't complain to you."

"It's quite alright."

_No, it's not. _"How many mages have been sent to the army already?"

"Only seven came when the King made the call. I have come to gather more."

Lara snorted, "I'm surprised Greagoir let that many go."

"Greagoir will have to allow more, the darkspawn have their own mages and our resources must surpass theirs."

Lara smiled to herself. "Maybe he would let me go to fight." The idea was laughable. Greagoir had never seemed to like her and the fact Irving favoured her had just further aggravated him. He would no sooner let her go to fight than he would allow Anders to permanently escape the tower.

"Would you like to? I could raise the matter with Irving."

Lara glanced up at him in genuine surprise. "Why would you do that?"

"You had the quickest, cleanest Harrowing he's seen in a long time. I might not be the most educated when it comes to magical matters, but any mage that can hold their own when in direct confrontation with a demon seems a worthy candidate to fight the darkspawn."

Lara smiled down at her feet. She was confident in her own abilities but being compliment by others always made her bashful. When Jowan had discovered being complimented made her blush- and made her numerous freckles stand out more as a result – he had told her she was the 'smartest, greatest, most wonderful and talented mage in the whole of Thedas'. Despite the fact that he had been doing it to tease her, she had still gone pink up to her ears.

"I would like that, if you would not mind." Lara said, pausing by the doorway to the guest rooms. It was only a short walk from Irving's office and she regretted she would not have more time to speak with Duncan; he was a refreshing change.

"Here you are." Lara said, gesturing to the room.

"Thank you for walking me." Duncan nodded.

Lara shrugged, walking the length of a hallway had hardly been taxing. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Duncan." And truly, it was. After the morning she'd had it had been nice to meet someone new, someone not preoccupied with blood magic and rumours.

"The same to you, Lara Surana. Perhaps we shall speak again before I leave."

Lara smiled brightly, her first genuine smile of the day. "Perhaps we shall."

* * *

The Tranquil had moved her meagre belongings upstairs to her new quarters. Said quarters consisted of a bed too big for just her, a desk, a chest and a wardrobe. It seemed cruel, to give her a space so big. What would she ever fill it all with? So far her current possessions consisted of her apprentice robes, a few books and journals and her new gifts from Irving.

She dumped the staff and the ring on the bed and changed into her new robes. They were yellow and while they fitted better than her old robes had, she had never liked the colour yellow.

Lara curled up in the centre of her new bed. She should go see Irving and ask him about fighting in the war. She should go see Jowan and ask about what Finn had said. She should…

She buried her face in her pillow. She was tired. Perhaps she should just sleep and hope tomorrow would be better?

"Lara?"

Jowan.

She rolled over to face him. He was ringing his hands together, somehow managing to look more anxious and twitchy than he had less than an hour ago.

"Jowan, are you alright?"

He shrugged and reached a hand out for her. "I have something I need to show you."

"What is it?"

"I can't explain. I have to show you."

Maker, it wasn't like Jowan to be cryptic. Lara took his hand and let him lead her back through the tower to the Chapel. Strange. Usually, if they wanted to talk, they found a quiet corner in the library and pretended to study whilst writing notes back and forth. Then Jowan took the notes to the practise area and burnt them, making their secrets safe.

Jowan released her hand as soon as they entered the room but gestured for her to keep following him. He led her to the far corner where there was a Chantry Sister sorting through the shelves.

"Jowan," Lara nodded to the Sister, "Do you really think this is the best place to talk?"

Jowan blushed. Lara could not remember the last time she had seen him blush. "Ah, but it is." He turned away from her towards the Sister. "You remember the girl I told you about? This is Lily."

Lara stared at the Sister. The girl Jowan liked was not only real but a _Chantry Sister? _Well that was just _wonderful. _She had seen him make some poor decisions in his time but this?

"Jowan," Lara said, ignoring the offered hand the Sister extended. "You cannot be serious."

He scowled at her. "Don't be rude! I am serious, Lily and I are in love."

This could not actually be happening. Lara shook her head. No, no, no. Jowan could not actually be stupid enough to believe himself in love with a Chantry sister. She refused to believe him capable of that.

"Love?" She snapped, too loud, and glanced around to check they were not being watched. "Jowan, mages do not fall in love with Chantry Sisters-"

"-I'm only an initiate." Lily interrupted.

Lara turned to look at the girl with disbelief. "Oh, well. Forgive me. That makes _all _the difference!"

"Lara, stop it. You're going to draw attention to us." Jowan shushed her.

She turned away from them both and ran her hands through her frizzy hair. Draw attention to them, she ought to bring the roof down upon them! How could either of them be so stupid?

"Jowan," she began once she felt capable of talking without shouting, "You cannot have brought me here just to tell me about…_this." _

"If only," he stepped towards her and lowered his voice. "Lily found proof that they're going to make me Tranquil."

At that her incredulous disbelief turned to a jolt of panic. She reached out, seizing Jowan's robe. "What? Where is this proof?"

"I saw the form on Greagoir's desk. Irving has already given his approval." Lily answered.

Lara swayed dangerously and Jowan placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her. No, no, no. "Irving wouldn't do that." She whispered, but of course he would. He was First Enchanter, he had condemned mages to the brand before and he would do it again.

"We both know he would." Jowan said gently.

Her grip on his robes tightened. "He wouldn't without at least some reason," she peered up at him. "What reason could he have, Jowan?"

"I've been sneaking around at night to meet Lily. Someone must have seen me and assumed the worst."

"That you're a blood mage."

He nodded.

"And you're not, are you?" She had to ask.

"No, of course not!" He met her gaze with the answer and Lara was reassured. Jowan was a lot of things but he was not a good liar. If he had been lying to her in that moment it would have been obvious. She would have known.

Reassured, she relented her grip on him and stepped back. "Alright. What do you want to do?"

Jowan heaved a sigh of relief. "I knew you would help us. Lily and I are going to escape. We know how to do that but before we can I need to destroy my phylactery."

Lara nodded. At least he wasn't planning on running off without taking precautions first. "How do we get in there?"

"I can get us in, but there's a problem. The door is sealed and won't open with just clever fingers and a lock pick. If we're going to get in we'll need to melt the lock." Lily said.

"A rod of fire would do that, don't you think?" Jowan suggested.

Lara nodded. She would have to get a rod of fire from the storage cupboard. Even as a full mage, she was going to need a Senior Enchanter's permission for that. And she could hardly ask Irving, he would want to know why she needed such a thing and she could think of no lie convincing enough. One of the other Senior Enchanters perhaps...Torrin was a no, he'd just patronize her like he had when she'd attempted to discuss the fraternities with him. Sweeney might work, but he was so forgetful there was no way to know he wouldn't reveal what he'd done to anyone. Wynne and Uldred both wouldn't - and both were gone to Ostagar anyway. That left…Senior Enchanter Leorah, perhaps? It would have to be, she was the only other option.

"Come on, Jowan. Let's go see what we can do."

"Uh…We shouldn't go together. It would only look suspicious." Jowan said, looking at Lily rather than her.

Lara gave him an incredulous look. "We go everywhere together, it wouldn't look suspicious. What _would _look suspicious is you hanging around in corners with a Chantry Sister."

"Initiate."

"Lily, I'm sure you're very nice but I really don't care about the distinction." Lara sighed in exasperation. "Fine, I'll go on my own."

She was half way to the door when the realisation hit her. _If I help him escape, I will always be on my own. _She resisted the urge to run back to him, to promise to find a way to make it right without him leaving her. But that would be selfish and, though the selfish option was the far more appealing one, she clenched her fists and made herself keep walking.

As it turned out, Leorah was the perfect person to ask. She had a spider problem in the store room and agreed to sign Lara's form if she helped with that. Killing spiders was exactly what Lara needed. Though the giant insects made her skin itch, it was a good outlet for her frustration. For a short while she was able to block out everything that had happened that morning. She was just a mage helping to clear up the stock room. Nothing else. Except for when she finished killing the spiders and had to think about what she was doing in there in the first place and why her hands were trembling.

It wasn't _fair. _Why should she have to lose Jowan forever just because he'd been stupid enough to fall in love and gotten some nasty rumours started about him? She sat down on one of the rocks in the store room and took a few minutes to think, and to gather herself in an attempt to quell her fear and rage.

She tried to imagine her life without him and found she couldn't do it. Jowan had always been there, since her first proper night in the tower. He was the one constant thing. The one _good _thing. The one good thing she had found for herself and held onto. The world had taken her family and her home from her because of her magic, but it also led her to her dearest friend.

But she thought of how he had looked at Lily. The fact that he had been willing to risk everything to sneak around with the initiate. He loved Lily. For better or for worse, he had said it and meant it. And he would either break free and spend the rest of his life with her, or fail and be made Tranquil. Either way, Lara had no way of keeping things as they were. And she knew how she wanted things to end for Jowan.

With that in mind, she set out to retrieve the form for the rod of fire. That meant facing Owain. She had never liked dealing with him purely because he served as a bitter reminder of what could happen to her if she made one mistake too many. Nowshe could barely stand to look at Owain, not with the knowledge that it could be Jowan shuffling around the stock-room stripped of everything he'd once been if they failed.

She knew that wasn't fair. Tranquil or not, he was a human being and deserved her respect. But right now all she had to do was imagine Jowan in his place and it turned her stomach. _This will not be Jowan's fate. I will not allow it. _She told herself that to ease the sting as she fetched the form, the signature, and finally the rod of fire. Lara held the pale stick in her hands, turning it over and over.

_If I take this there is no going back._

"Thank you and good day." Owain said in his usual monotone as he turned away from her.

Lara clenched the rod of fire tight in her hand and knew the truth of the matter: it was already too late to go back. She would not let Jowan become like Owain.

* * *

Sneaking into the basement seemed too easy. There were no templars to guard the door and no templars in the cold corridor it led to. Lara stood beside Jowan and Lily, breath making small clouds before their faces, suspicious and unable to shake the ill-feeling.

"You go on ahead." She said to Lily, tugging at Jowan's sleeve before he could go running after her.

"We shouldn't stop here." Jowan whispered to her even as his gaze was stuck on Lily's retreating form.

"I need to speak to you." She said, which was an understatement if there ever was one. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Jowan laughed. "What I want? Lara, this is the only thing I've ever wanted."

_The only thing?_Lara turned away from him to hide the hurt upon her face. She understood, in part, what he meant. All _she _had ever truly wanted was a life free from the tower. All she had ever been _allowed _to want was to pass her Harrowing. But for Jowan to say the only thing he had ever wanted was to run off with a stranger and leave her alone? It made her hurt in a selfish way, the only sort of hurt Lara was any good at dealing with.

"Where will you go?" She asked, watching as Lily traced her hands over the door up ahead.

"We're not sure. Somewhere far away. We might get a farm."

The image of Jowan trying to run a farm was enough to bring bittersweet tears to her eyes. "I'd pay to see you try and maintain livestock."

"Funny." His hand caught her sleeve and pulled her back towards him. "We'll be alright, you know. _I'll _be alright."

"What about me?" The words slipped traitorously out of her mouth before she could stop them. She had not meant to be selfish in this. She had wanted to help him without a word of complaint and see him off. But he was her best friend – he had been hers long before Lily had ever existed in his train of thought.

He frowned and pulled her into a tight hug. She clutched at him, afraid to let go.

"We shouldn't stay here; it would be too easy to get caught." He whispered against the tip of her ear.

_I don't want to let you go. _"Alright." Lara released her hold on him and smoothed her shaking hands down the front of her robes. "Let's see this done."

* * *

Getting past the first door was easy: a few words from Lily and a blast of ice from Lara and it swung open. Too easy, was how Lara silently dubbed it. Everything so far had gone far too smoothly. It was only a matter of time before things went wrong - if she had any coin to her name she would have placed money on it.

The second door was where things began to unravel. Lara held the rod of fire in her hands and tried to quell the sick feeling overwhelming her. She could do this. Just a little bit of fire facing away from her to open a door and save her friend.

Her hand was shaking so badly she dropped the rod on the first try.

"Here, let me." Jowan took the rod. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have expected you to do it in the first place."

Lily raised her eyebrows but Lara ignored the silent question. Jowan knew about the events that had led to her coming to the tower and that was enough. Nobody else needed to know about the nightmares crawling around in her head.

The rod lit up and Jowan slid it into the lock. A second passed. Two.

Nothing happened.

"Oh Maker," Jowan extinguished the rod and turned to stare helplessly at Lara. "It didn't work."

She could see that. But what was she supposed to do? She couldn't _make_ it work. The fire should have melted the lock. "I knew this was all too easy."

"We're done for." Lily said, pacing in anxious circles.

Lara turned away from the pair of them and glanced at the side corridor up ahead. It led to the cells and lower storage rooms, but perhaps if they went that way they might be able to find a way through. It beat standing around panicking anyway, that was for sure.

"Come on," she called over her shoulder to the fretting couple. "We're going this way."

"But how do we know that will lead where we need it to?" Lily asked. Despite her fretting, Lara heard them hurrying to catch up with her.

"We don't. But we're going to find out."

But of course, it couldn't be as simple as finding a way around. The guard statues that lined the corridor came to life, shambling metal bodies and great-swords that sparked with the magic that animated them.

Lily stumbled a few paces and Lara stepped forwards to face them. She had her staff but Jowan had magic too, they could defend Lily well enough.

Her surprise when Lily pulled two daggers from her pack and struck out at the statues was considerable. Where did a Chantry sister learn how to fight? Lily was quick and sure in her movements, a sign she had not just plucked these from templar stores. She had handled weapons before. Lara wondered if Jowan knew that about his sweetheart.

The first group of statues dealt with – though Lara did not doubt there would be more- she pushed open the door that led onwards. On the right there were a few small rooms containing books and relics. On the left there were more statues that shambled to animation at their approach.

They were struck down with a few swift bolts of frost from Lara and a blast of flame from Jowan. Lara knew he preferred fire but she wished he wouldn't use it so close to her; it made her anxious and that made it hard to maintain her focus.

"So, where does a Chantry sister learn how to fight?" Lara said as they continued past the rooms filled with forgotten texts and objects.

"I'm only an initiate." Lily corrected and Lara rolled her eyes. "And I was not always a part of the Chantry. Just as you were not always a circle mage."

Lara twisted to face her. "There's a bit of a difference though, isn't there? You chose to join the Chantry and you can choose to leave. Mages don't get that option."

"Not easily, no. But Jowan is leaving. He's making an option and he'll see it through."

Lara disliked the implication behind Lily's words. She took a step closer, curling a piece of the Fade in her fist ready to twist to ice or lightening. "Are you trying to say mages that don't escape don't want to? That it's as easy as just _making an option_?"

Jowan stepped in between them and pushed Lara back. "She didn't mean that, Lara. Don't be so confrontational."

Lara released her hold and the magic in her hand faded. Lily was not looking at her with malice but pity. Lara would have preferred the former. In her resentment over this situation, she had mistaken Lily's insistence that Jowan would be fine now that his decision was made as a slight against herself.

"We should keep moving." She said and made herself do just that.

The next room was devoid of statues. What was waiting was far worse. The cells lined both sides of the room; small things with open doors inside of which were rags and straw. Lara stopped at the second cell on the right.

This was the room she had been trapped in during her first night in the tower. She remembered it as vividly as if it happened yesterday. When she had been placed into this room she had been an Alienage elf. Her favourite food had been mother's stew and her only toy had been a cloth doll stuffed with straw that she had dropped when the templars pulled her from her home. Lara could no longer remember what the stew tasted like or how the doll had looked beyond the fact that straw had poked out of its foot and time had faded the memory of her mother so she was nothing but a long black plait and golden eyes.

She was Lara Surana of the Circle now, wearing fancy robes and clutching a staff of knotted wood. But staring into the cell she realised; there would always be a part of her that would never leave this room. There would always be a part of her that was a frantic, frightened child, screaming with anger lest she be stripped of everything. Despite the cold aloof demeanour she had managed to establish over the years she knew one truth: she was a wild thing at the core. She would howl and fight rather than let what was hers be taken from her.

With that thought in mind, she closed the cell door and continued onwards.

* * *

Getting into the repository involved moving a bookcase and blasting a hole in the wall. Had it not been for the fact they were on their way to destroy Jowan's phylactery it might have been enjoyable, the two of them working together to devise a way into the room.

The repository was so cold Lara was shivering within seconds of being inside. Lara had always preferred cold over heat, but this was ridiculous. She was the first to enter and the one to wake the two remaining statues.

Having dealt with so many on their way there, it was practically routine to destroy them now: Lara lashed out with cold and lightening while Jowan doused them with fire and rock and Lily struck out with small, precise swipes of her blades.

The last two obstacles between them and Jowan's phylactery fell down.

"Only one thing left to do." Lara breathed as she secured her staff and shook her numb fingers.

It was Lily who found his phylactery. Had their life been a part of one of the adventure tales found in the library, there would be symbolism in that. But this was not a story. If it was, there would be a way for them all to slip out into the sunset without ever being caught.

But there were no such happy endings to be had in life.

Jowan destroyed his phylactery by dropping it on the ground. Lara covered the area with a fine layer of frost, hoping their combined efforts would be enough to stop the templars using the blood to track him in future.

"We can go now." Lily said, breathless and excited.

Lara felt only dread. They stood at the doorway that would lead them back up into the Circle proper and Lara flung her arms around his neck and clutched at him, wanting to say all the words she knew had no purpose. _Don't leave me. Don't go without me. I need you here. _But she pressed them down within her and said nothing. He had to go. She understood the cruel necessity behind it.

"You could come with us." He whispered and she felt the wet press of tears against her hair.

"No, my phylactery is in Denerim. They'd hunt me down." She stepped back from him and wiped at his tears to distract her from her own. "Right, you both need to make sure you get a change of outfit as soon as possible, alright? The less conspicuous you look, the better. Maybe grow a beard." She patted Jowan's face and stepped away from him.

Wiping at her own tears, she grabbed Jowan's hand for the last time and turned towards the stairs. "As soon as you get the chance, you run and don't look back. Not for anything."

"Not for anything." He agreed and squeezed her hand.

In the future, she would hate herself for giving him that advice. They stepped out of the darkness of the basement and Lara took a moment for her eyesight to adjust. When she could see clearly at last she saw Irving, Greagoir and a huddle of templars.

Oh no. No, no, no.

"So it is true." Irving sighed. "I had not wanted to believe it when I heard."

"Heard what?" Lara said, fighting to stop her voice from shaking. "We haven't done anything."

"Do not lie to me anymore than you have already, child."

He was disappointed in her, that much was clear. But how had he known what they were doing? "First Enchanter, I…"

"You should have come to me the moment Jowan told you of this plan. Or did you think nobody would hear you, discussing such things in the open?"

Jowan let go of her hand and stepped forwards. "Don't punish her. I asked her to help me and she did, as any good friend would."

"You have involved her in your escape attempts, maleficar. She will face the Rite the same as you." Greagoir said.

The Rite? Greagoir was going to make her Tranquil? "We haven't done anything, he isn't a maleficar!"

"Haven't done anything? So I suppose if we were to go down into the repository we would find Jowan's phylactery intact?"

"Yes." She lied desperately. "We couldn't get in there."

"Stop with the lies, girl. You've been caught." Greagoir said and gestured to Lily. "And with an initiate too, how far has your influence spread, blood mage?"

"I'm acting of my own free will, Knight-Commander, please don't punish Jowan. We were planning on escaping, yes, but he is no blood mage!" Lily protested.

The templars were slowly moving closer towards them. They were not going to listen to them. Jowan had been in line for the Rite from the start and now she was going to face it too.

"You can't let them do this, Irving!" Jowan cried. "Punish me but not them, if you truly care about the rest of the tower, leave them alone!"

Irving only shook his head. He was leaving them to the templar's wrath. Was he really going to turn his back on her after thirteen years? Because she had tried to help a friend?

"You two will face the Rite. You, Lily, shall be taken to Aeonar to repent for your crimes." Greagoir said as the templars began to form a circle around them.

Oh no. To made Tranquil was a dire fate, but so was being sent to Aeonar. Lara could not pretend to like Lily, but the girl did not deserve that.

"No!" Jowan jerked away from them both. He grabbed one of Lily's daggers and stepped towards the templars. "I won't let you touch her!"

He brandished the dagger in the air and Lara stepped forwards. What was he doing? Did he mean to take on five heavily armed templars with one dagger? When he had magic to his disposal?

But he did not use the knife on the templars. Instead he drew it towards himself and slashed it across his palm. Lara saw the blood rise up in the same moment she felt the surge of power. _Blood magic._

The force of the spell knocked her backwards but not with the same level of force that hit Irving and the templars: the latter were all knocked to the floor, seemingly unconscious, while she only stumbled.

"You lied to me!" She yelled at Jowan in the same instant Lily cried, "You're a blood mage!"

He turned to face them. "I…Yes, I admit I dabbled, but only because I was afraid! I knew I needed to be stronger at magic for us to have a hope of escaping. Please Lily, we can still go, I promise I'll never-"

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" Lily stumbled away from him. "You're a liar and a maleficar! I wish I'd never met you!"

"But Lily I…"

"No!" She retreated from him, holding her hands out in front of her like a barrier. "Get away from me!"

Jowan's shoulders slumped. He turned to face Lara and she realised his intentions.

"Jowan, wait-"

He ignored her and ran. To his credit, he heeded her earlier words.

He did not look back for anything.

* * *

Duncan arrived as Greagoir and Irving were waking up. Lara was knelt on the floor beside Irving while Lily was still huddled in the corner. It had been less than five minutes since Jowan had deserted her. Not that she could have gone with him. Alone, he might stand a chance. With her, the templars would be able to use her phylactery to trace them.

But the knowledge that he had lied to her had curdled to an ache in her chest. Breathing hurt, each sharp intake of breath creating a fresh spasm of pain. Her hands were trembling. Was she in shock? She wouldn't know. She had never been in shock before. So she sat down beside Irving and made herself as small as possible. It was like hiding in the cupboard thirteen years ago all over again.

"What happened here?" Duncan said as he arrived.

"I.." She could not find the words. How did you explain that your dearest friend had lied and betrayed you?

"I shall tell you what happened, Warden." Greagoir said as he began to pull himself up. "This mage assisted a maleficar in destroying his phylactery and escaping the templars justice."

Duncan glanced at her with a look of surprise. Lara could not stand it.

"I helped a friend," she insisted.

"And what did you get in return?" Irving said. "Did you know he was a blood mage?"

"No. I asked him and he said no." She bit her lip and clenched her fists to stop the tears that threatened. She would not cry. Not here and now, not in front of Greagoir and his templar lackeys.

"A maleficar and a liar, what a surprise." Greagoir said. "Men, move out. He can't have gotten far. Bring him back alive if you can but if not, kill him."

"No!" Lara shouted, unable to help herself. For all that he had done, Jowan was still first and dearest in her heart. She could not stand the thought of him dead, maleficar or no.

"You say he deceived you and yet you still defend him. Two of you," Greagoir pointed to two of the templars. "Take her to the cells. It seems she has a desire to end her time in the Circle the same way it began."

Lara stumbled to her feet. No. She would not let them take her down there to the cold darkness to await the Rite. She wouldn't.

As the templars approached her, Duncan stepped between them.

"I hereby invoke the rite of conscription." He said.

"What?" Lara, Irving and Greagoir all said in unison.

"Duncan," Irving continued. "I know we spoke of this before but… She aided a maleficar. She cannot be trusted."

Lara winced. Irving had been her mentor for thirteen years. To hear him say that about her now was a bitter sting.

"She aided a friend and did so with conviction. The Grey Wardens could use that sort of loyalty."

"She showed no loyalty to the Circle when she aided a blood mage." Greagoir spat. "No, I cannot allow it."

"You do not have to 'allow' it, Greagoir. I have invoked the rite of conscription and my authority supersedes yours in this matter. She will be a Grey Warden."

Lara felt dizzy. A Grey Warden? She would fight darkspawn outside of the tower? It beat being made Tranquil by a long way, that was for sure.

"Come," Duncan glanced down at her. "We should leave immediately."

Lara nodded. It was not as though she had any belongings she needed to retrieve. "First Enchanter," she said, feeling as though she should say something before she left. "If I had the choice, I'd do it again. Help Jowan, I mean. And I'm not sorry for that. But I am sorry thirteen years of tutoring had to end like this."

Irving shook his head at her. "Go child. The Circle is your home no longer."

She turned and hurried to catch up with Duncan. Lara Surana had entered the tower screaming. She left it in silence.

* * *

**A/N: **Hi guys! To anyone that might be interested I have a tumblr tag for Lara at my blog Allystardust ( wasn't letting me put a link aha) but at the blog If you go to the tag: tagged/lara-surana you can see it contains pictures and quotes :) Next chapter will be Lara and Duncan travelling and arriving in Ostagar!


	4. A New Start

Summary: Lara begins her new life and travels with Duncan to Ostagar.

* * *

_ 'You're gone, gone, gone away_  
_I watched you disappear_  
_All that's left is the ghost of you._  
_Now we're torn, torn, torn apart,_  
_There's nothing we can do_  
_Just let me go we'll meet again soon.'  
__-Of Monsters and Men _

Lara was to leave the tower and everything it held forever. Despite that, Greagoir still followed them to the door.

"Duncan, you cannot do this. Do not protect this maleficar, do not allow her out of this tower!"

"She made a mistake whilst aiding a friend; I see no reason not to allow her redemption." Duncan replied and Lara tried to feel flattered, rather than insulted by the fact that he was talking about her like she was not there.

"She was brought to this tower because she burnt a boy's face off. She is a danger to us all, if you let her go free here she will ruin you all and then there will nobody left to allow her redemption!"

Lara bristled. How unfair, she had always known Greagoir did not like her, but to say she was a danger to everyone? Magic was dangerous certainly, her control of it could be dangerous, but was she herself dangerous? Greagoir did not know her well enough to make that judgement.

"It is a risk I am willing to take. Thank you for your counsel Greagoir, but I will hear no more of it."

Greagoir dismissed, the doors opened and they stepped out into the mid-afternoon sunshine. Lara stood blinking in the light, listening to Greagoir curse and stomp away. Her new life outside the tower: bought by betrayal and blood magic.

It was not how she had imagined her freedom beginning. But then, she had never realisticallyimagined being free.

Her eyes adjusted to the glare of the sun and the world took shape; the sloping bank of mud and grass that led to Lake Calenhad, the boat full of templars heading across the clear waters to the shore beyond. Everything was bright and vivid; no more stone walls and floors, dark wood and dusty books - the outside world was composed of colour and life.

Lara wondered how Jowan had reacted to it all and the thought made her breath hitch sharply. Where would he be now? How far could he have escaped to in so little time? Had he swam? He must have done; there was no other way across.

"If you're thinking of going after your friend, I'm afraid you'll have no such luck. I conscripted you to be a warden and I intend to make sure you see it through."

Lara jumped a little at Duncan's words. She'd been so focused on thoughts of Jowan and the new world around her that she had all but forgotten about her escort.

"I wasn't planning on running away." She said as Duncan began to lead the way down the hill towards the boat. And truly, she wasn't. If she ran she would be an apostate and templars could kill apostates.

"Very glad to hear it. Ah, and while I'm thinking about it," Duncan turned towards her and handed her a small, plain dagger with a narrow blade and a thin hilt. "For you."

Lara took it uncertainly. "I have magic."

"I know you do," Duncan explained as they kept walking. "But having another weapon could be useful for you should the worst occur."

"Not worried I'll stab you in the back like the dangerous traitor I am?" Lara muttered as she put the dagger into the pocket of her robes. Feeling the blade bouncing against her thigh was strangely reassuring.

"I do not believe you a traitor or a danger. Not that it matters now, as a Warden you must consider your old life over."

Was it as easy as all that? To simply consider the past over and just move on? Still, stood in the tower's shadow, Lara did not think so.

The boat they ended up crossing the lake with was full of templars. Lara sat opposite them beside Duncan, trailing her fingers in the lake and trying to ignore the stares she could feel being levelled at her. Let them stare. Soon she would be free of them forever.

"This is your fault, you know." One said eventually.

Lara was not surprised to realise he was speaking to her. "No it isn't." She said back simply, not looking up from the lake. The water distorted her reflection in a way that made her look strange and unfamiliar – fitting given that was how she felt.

"Yes, it is." The templar insisted with more venom in his voice. "The blood mage was going to be made Tranquil. If you had refused to help, it would still be locked up and the world would be safe."

She clenched her fists and refused to look up at the boy. "The blood mage has a name."

"He doesn't deserve a name. None of you mages do; this incident is just proof the lot of you will turn maleficar if given the chance."

Lara lunged at him. She wasn't sure what she planned on doing but she never got the chance – Duncan grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back into her seat before she could reach the templar.

"If you might keep your friend quiet," He said to the templars. "I have no desire to share a boat with an angry mage." Duncan gave her shoulders what she assumed to be a reassuring squeeze and released her.

"Of course." One of the other men said and elbowed the templar that had goaded her.

But the rage he had sparked in Lara remained. She stared the templar down, curling and uncurling her hands and feeling pieces of the Fade crackle in her fist. The temptation to freeze the fool's head and drop him into the lake to drown in his heavy plate was almost overwhelming. But she made herself be still, allowing herself only the movement in her trembling hands.

Out of the boat, Lara watched them walk away up the hill and once they were out of sight she screamed, her anger and frustration bubbling up and out of her. She swung away from Duncan and kicked out with her foot. It collided with a large rock and her scream caught in her throat as sharp pain flared all the way up her leg.

"Feeling better now?" Duncan said dryly as she huddled on the floor clutching her broken foot.

Or, it felt broken anyway. It was certainly the worst pain she'd ever felt; sharp and overwhelming and enough to make her anger dissipate. She clutched at her foot and tried to summon the focus to use healing magic. She had never been very good at healing, her preference had always been with primal and entropy. Now, clutching her foot and trying to heal it without much success, she wished she'd paid more attention in Wynne's lessons.

The ache in her foot mixed with her pain at Jowan's betrayal and she squeezed her eyes tight, refusing to allow herself to cry. The attempt proved futile and stubborn tears escaped, Lara tucked her head down against her chest lest anyone should see.

"Fixed it?" Duncan asked.

Lara scrubbed her hands across her face and thought of lying. But as she stood and took a step the pain worsened and she shook her head. "No."

Duncan sighed and passed her a small flask. Lara downed the poultice in one and gagged at the foul aftertaste that filled her mouth. Not pleasant. But it soothed the ache in her foot so each step made her foot throb instead of scream.

"I'm fine," she gritted out.

She soon regretted those words. Two hours later the pain in her foot had worsened and her calves ached from walking. She was panting, struggling to keep up with Duncan and his brisk pace.

"You cannot be tired already." He said as they stopped for him to check his map.

Lara doubled over, rubbing her calves. "I've never walked this much in my life!"

"You shall have to get used to it." He said as he traced the lines of the roads that would take them to Ostagar. "We have two weeks of walking left to do."

Her legs throbbed in a fresh surge of pain at his answer. "Can we not get horses?"

"No."

"It would be much faster with horses."

"It would be much cheaper without horses."

"You're Commander of the Grey Wardens, surely getting back to Ostagar is more important than spending a few coins?"

Duncan glanced up at her and she beamed, trying to look convincing. Her words and expression probably did little to convince him – the fact she was a sweating, limping mess after only two hours of walking was probably a more compelling argument.

"Fine," He conceded. "If the village we stop in tonight has horses at a fair price, I will allow it."

Lara tried not to get her hopes up. Nothing else had gone right thus far that day, why should this?

* * *

By the time they stopped for the evening, the sun had been swallowed by ominous looking rain-clouds. It was too late for Lara though: she was sunburnt. Duncan laughed when he realised and told her she would get used to it. Lara decided that perhaps she had been wrong about liking him.

They arrived in the village with Lara burnt and aching and Duncan walking as brightly as he had been when they'd left the tower. She hated him a little for that. But mostly she was tired. Her sunburn had left her feeling heavy and dizzy and the throbbing in her foot had built to an acute stabbing pain.

Duncan left her waiting outside the stable while he went inside to ask about horses. And it was then, feeling dazed and out of sorts, that she saw Jowan.

He had heeded her advice and changed into ordinary clothes which made him, for a short moment, look like a stranger. But Lara would recognise him anywhere; his hair was the same as always and he had the familiar stooped posture she'd had thirteen years to get used to.

Ignoring the pain in her foot, Lara ran towards him. She would bring him to Duncan and he would see that Jowan would make a good Warden, that together they would be better Wardens than Lara on her own. He would be safe from the templars and she would forgive him for his betrayal.

"Jowan!" She grabbed his shoulder and pulled him towards her.

He turned.

It was not Jowan.

"Get away, knife ears." The farmer, who was too dark and too old to be Jowan, shrugged her off and walked away.

Lara stood in shock and watched him walk away. On closer inspection she should have been able to tell it was not Jowan, even from the back. He was too tall, his hair was streaked with grey. She had just been hoping it was him.

But why? He had betrayed her and left her to face the Rite. He had fallen in love, planned to escape and _practised blood magic, _all without telling her. Why should she look for him? Why should she hope to make him safe?

Even as she asked herself the question she knew the answer: because despite all that, he had still been the one to hold her hand when she was scared, the first one to befriend her when she came to the tower, the only constant in her life. Did one mistake truly wipe all of that away?

She did not realise she was shaking until Duncan placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

She nodded and curled her hands into fists to quell their trembling. She could do this, she could get through this. After all, what other option did she have?

Lara followed Duncan through the village to the tavern. It was small but crowded and it seemed to be the hub of the village. Lara stuck close to Duncan, clutching onto her staff and keeping her head down, painfully aware of the lull in conversation caused by their arrival. Inside of the tower there had been a hierarchy, but the words of the shem she had confused for Jowan had reminded her that out in the real world, she was both a knife-ears and a mage and could expect no kindness.

Having arranged for food and a room, they found a table in the corner and sat down. Lara kept her back to the wall and her eyes on the men and women crowded into the small, dark tavern. People were staring at her without even trying to conceal it. She stared back, narrowing her eyes and refusing to look away first.

"How is your foot?" Duncan asked.

Lara glanced at him. Did he not realise how everyone in here was eyeing her like she was a rabid animal that had managed to stumble in somehow? "A danger to us all," Greagoir had said. These people must believe that fool notion too.

"Fine," she lied.

Duncan looked unconvinced but did not press the matter. He simply handed her another poultice and spread his map out on the table. "We will continue the rest of the way on horseback. Have you ever ridden a horse before?"

Lara downed the poultice and winced at the taste. "I've lived in the tower since I was six." She said.

"Ah, I see. No matter. We will share a horse."

She grimaced. Lara liked her own space and the thought of having to cling to Duncan as they shared a horse was not an appealing one.

"Considering a horse was your idea, you don't look too pleased by the notion."

Lara had no desire to explain herself to him. "It's preferable to walking."

Their food arrived then and Lara used it as an opportunity to halt any conversation. It was stew with meat and potatoes, simple but filling. Lara finished it and her water quickly and sat back in her seat, feeling tired and nauseous.

"You can go up to sleep if you'd like," Duncan offered. "I have some papers to go through but I see no reason for you to remain up if you wish to rest." He nodded at the stairs in the corner of the room. "Ours is the second room on the left. Enjoy it, we shall be camping from here on in."

"Goodnight." Lara said, taking the offered key and standing. "And, thank you." She added as a quiet afterthought and walked away before he could reply. She was thankful for all he had done. She had just never been very good at showing gratitude – in the tower there had been little to be thankful for.

The room was small and narrow with a low ceiling and minimal furniture. There were two beds, smaller than her bunk in the apprentice quarters, and a chest in between them. Lara took the bed furthest away from the door. She set her staff down, kicked off her shoes, and stored the knife Duncan had given her beneath the pillow. She crawled between the sheets still in her robes. She would need to find new clothes soon, or at least wash her robes, but for now she simply wanted to sleep.

However, once curled up beneath unfamiliar sheets in the darkness of the room, sleep eluded her. She closed her eyes and all she could see was Jowan raising his arm and slashing the knife across his palm. She saw the desperation on his face as he turned to look at her. She saw Greagoir and Irving while the words Rite, Tranquil and Blood Mage rolled around in her head again and again.

Each image that flashed in her head and each time the words were repeated was like a punch to the gut. Lara curled up smaller, wrapping her arms around herself and pinching her eyes tightly shut. She had hated the tower. She had hated the rules and the templars and the fact that she was trapped there forever, but it had been her home, for good or ill. In the tower she had known who she was – Irving's apprentice, Jowan's friend, a promising student.

Now, what was she? A traitor, a liar and without a friend in the world. She had lost everything and, in return, gained a place in an order that fought monsters their whole lives. She was free of the tower but Duncan had made it clear she was a part of the Wardens now: she was still not truly free.

_I do not know who I am anymore. Everything that defined me is lost._

The thought brought Lara to tears. She pressed her hands over her eyes, desperate to contain them, but it was no use. The sobs broke out of her and with each one she shuddered violently, nails digging into her sunburnt skin as she tried to press the silent screams back inside her.

Alone in the dark, Lara Surana cried for herself and the life she had lost. The tears were not a comfort.

* * *

Duncan was already up when Lara woke the next morning. She had hoped to feel better after a few hours of scant sleep, but if anything, she felt worse. Slowly she pushed into a sitting position and rubbed her hands over her face. Her skin was starting to peel from the sunburn now. She hoped that meant she wouldn't burn anymore.

The rest of her body ached. Today, even on horseback, was not going to be easy.

"Ah good, you're awake. I thought you might appreciate some change of clothes." Duncan said and pointed to a pile of clothes at the end of her bed.

Lara glanced at him uncertainly. She wanted to ask him why he was being so nice to her, providing her with clothes and getting a horse for their travelling needs even though it was clear he could have walked all the way to Ostagar without a problem. Was it pity? Because she did not want pity. She would throw everything back in his face rather than let him provide her with things for pity.

But perhaps it was just practicality? She was a new initiate of the Grey Wardens, surely he would want to make sure she got to Ostagar in one piece. Yes, she much preferred that idea. "Thank you," she said and climbed out of bed.

"I will leave you to dress. We can eat downstairs then get going, we have a long way to travel today." Duncan said and left before she could think of a suitably grateful reply.

Lara tugged her robes off and folded them on the bed. The clothes Duncan had provided were a loose white shirt, black breeches and a travelling cloak of thin grey wool. They were all a little too big for her, but she appreciated the thought. Wearing them, she could have passed for an ordinary elf, were it not for her staff. It was a surprisingly reassuring thought; all she need do was throw away the knotted wood and her magic could be a secret.

Dressed and ready, she placed her robes in the pack Duncan had provided and walked downstairs to meet him. She met as many stares as she had the night before, but now she simply ignored them. After her outburst of tears last night, Lara had resolved that that would be the end of it; no more tears over what had happened, no more allowing the stares of shem to make her uncomfortable. She was to be a Grey Warden. She would not go into that new life downcast and snivelling.

They ate a simple breakfast of honeyed porridge and headed out for the road. The horse Duncan had purchased was grey and stocky. Lara stopped a few paces away from the beast and eyed it uncertainly. She had wanted a horse for ease of travel but years away from any animals had left her uncertain as to how to react to one.

"I can help you on first." Duncan offered, glancing over his shoulder at him. "Don't worry, she's no danger to you."

Given that the horse was twice the size of her, Lara doubted that. Still, she swallowed her anxiety and crept closer. The horse ignored her. Duncan helped her up onto the creature's back then clambered up in front of her. They began to trot away and Lara clutched at him, wincing as the jerking sensation of the horse in movement jarred her weary legs.

For hours they rode on over rolling hills and flat fields. The marvel Lara had felt at the colours of the world had not dimmed, it was easy to keep her mind occupied as Ferelden unfurled before her: her unexpected shriek of laughter as birds burst from the trees above them was as happy as she could remember being in days.

The night was another matter. They stopped a short while away from the road and shared a tent large enough that Lara could curl up in the corner and ignore the other presence in the tent with her. Not that it mattered – Duncan seemed to barely sleep. She wondered how he could afford to sleep so little and keep going so effortlessly was it a Grey Warden thing perhaps?

She thought of asking him but words had never been Lara's strong point. Instead she lay in the quiet darkness of the tent, listening to the world around her and ignoring her earlier vow of moving on from past events. She spent the first night unpicking the last few months and trying to pin-point the moment Jowan had become truly lost to her.

_I should never have scoffed at the notion of him having a girlfriend. If I had been supportive, perhaps everything would be different now._

The next week was spent in a similar fashion: they spent their daylight hours walking and riding and their nights in relative silence. Duncan talked at her about the Grey Wardens, about how the Archdemon led the hoard and it was when an Archdemon rose that Blights occurred, about what she could expect in Ostagar and of a strange ritual he referred to only as the 'Joining.' He would not elaborate on what it was and Lara understood – it was like the Harrowing, a secret out of necessity. Even thinking that made her wince. Irving believed her a traitor, she should not even mentally parrot his words.

But hearing about what awaited her in Ostagar was pleasant. It gave her an anchor; something to keep going for, a reason to endure the days of travel and nights of scant sleep. She thought she was alone in her restlessness – until one night she awoke and saw Duncan thrashing in his sleep, hissing words and names that made no sense to her.

Lara shifted over to his side of the tent and nudged him gently to wake him, unsure if she was doing the right thing.

Duncan jerked awake, sitting up so quickly she had to fling herself backwards to avoid their heads colliding.

"Sorry!" She said as he stared at her in weary confusion. "Only, you sounded as though you were having unpleasant dreams."

Duncan scrubbed his hand across his face. He looked tired and drawn and, in the days since leaving the tower, his beard had become longer and more ragged, not having had the provisions to keep it trimmed. They had little, only clothes, basic camping equipment, food and their weapons. Lara changed between her robes and the clothes Duncan had given her, washing them whenever they stopped by a river whilst he cleaned his armour.

"Thank you." He said quietly. "It appears my mind is heavy these days."

Lara nodded, not wanting to pry and ask what had caused him to dream as he did. Instead she sat back, pulling her blankets up to her chin and said. "My friend used to have a trick for falling asleep back in the tower."

"Your friend the blood mage?" Duncan asked. There was no malice in his tone, it seemed he was simply asking for clarification.

"Yes," Lara answered with a sad smile. "His name was – is- Jowan and he's a good man, though it may not seem so. He used to say if you couldn't rest you should count the stone on the walls and ceiling and floor, the monotony of it was sure to send you to sleep."

"Is that so?"

She nodded. "We don't have stone here, but perhaps the stitching on the tent would suffice?"

"I will be sure to try it. Thank you."

Lara shrugged and lay down. "The least I can do." She answered.

In the morning she assumed, by the dark circles beneath his eyes, that it had not helped. But the next night she woke from a nightmare and heard Duncan counting quietly. If it helped him she was not sure, but his soft voice slowly counting stitches sent her back to a light but dreamless sleep.

* * *

The last part of their journey involved passing through the village of Lothering. They intended to stop and rest for a few hours before continuing, since the horse needed water and they needed more supplies. Duncan went to secure the goods and send a message on to Ostagar, leaving Lara waiting by the tavern where they would fetch food before leaving.

She had caught sight of the cage upon their entrance into the village, but had been too focused on keeping up with Duncan to pay much attention. Once her leader was gone though, Lara found her attention drawn back towards it. There was a Qunari in the cage. Lara had never seen one before but she had read enough about them to recognize one. How did a Qunari come to be so far from Par Vollen?

Deciding Duncan would not be back for some time yet, Lara made her way over. The Qunari was nearly twice the size of her and scowled at her approach, but she did not find him as threatening as all accounts described.

"You're not one of my captors, whatever it is you want I suggest you move on." He said when she did not immediately move away from his cage.

"I'm just surprised to see a Qunari in Lothering, is all." Lara answered.

"I am not here to indulge your surprise."

"I can see that. You're 'here' because someone locked you in a cage."

His scowl worsened. Had he not been trapped in a cage, Lara might have backed away. As it was she just met his stare and did not move an inch.

A moment passed. It became evident he was not going to be the one to break the silence. "Why are you in that cage?" Lara asked.

"I put myself in here."

"Any particular reason?" Lara said. The thought of caging oneself seemed absurd to her, who had spent most of her life wishing to be free of a cage.

"Have the villagers not spoken of it?"

"I'm not a villager, I'm on my way to Ostagar."

"I have heard of the battles commencing there. What is your purpose is travelling to Ostagar?"

"I am to join the Grey Wardens."

The Qunari looked her up and down. It reminded her of the way templars used to assess her: he was trying to work out if she was a threat or not, or something of that ilk. "Interesting. I have heard stories of the Grey Wardens strength and skill. I suppose not all stories match up."

Lara ignored the obvious insult. "You never answered my question about why you're in that cage."

"I killed a farmer and their family." He said, as calmly as though she had just asked him about the weather.

_Oh._ "Why?"

"It does not matter."

_I find that hard to believe. _She was tempted to reply, but she suspected that might only serve to irritate him and hinder further conversation. She had never spoken to a Qunari before and who knew if she would have the chance again. She was not about to cut it short if she could help it.

"I suspect capturing you must have been difficult." She ventured. Given that he was undoubtedly a towering hulk of muscle she could not see guards taking him down easily.

"They did not have to capture me. I gave myself up."

Lara raised her eyebrows at that. She knew little of Qunari and what she did know was doubtlessly corrupted by biased sources, since none of the books she had read were written _by _Qunari, but they did not seem the sort to give themselves up to capture.

"Why did you do that?" She asked.

"Either you have an enviable memory, or a pitiable life, to know nothing of regret."

Lara looked away from him and scoffed. "No," she said quietly. "I know regret well enough." Regret was a knife across a palm, a friend lost, a home where she was branded a traitor.

"Then perhaps you are not as foolish as you seem."

Lara smiled at that. She liked him, this Qunari, no matter how foolish that made her. "I'm Lara Surana," she said with a nod of her head. "What's your name?"

He frowned at her and said nothing for a long moment. Lara was sure he was considering not answering her. But then he nodded back, a short sharp movement, and said. "I am Sten of the Beresaad."

"Lara!"

She glanced away from the cage. Duncan had returned and her time was up.

"I should go." She said to Sten. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Sten of the Beresaad. I hope you don't come to regret stepping into that cage."

"You have good manners for a fool," Sten said. "May the death you undoubtedly face in the battles of Ostagar be an honourable one."

Lara laughed. "I'm going to take that as a compliment."

"As it was intended."

She laughed again and walked away, wondering silently:

_My best friend is a blood mage and a Qunari murderer just made me laugh more than I have in days. How strange the world is._

* * *

They arrived in Ostagar an hour after the sun had risen. Lara dropped down off the horse and followed Duncan through the arched gateway into the ruins. It was a fascinating place, Lara suspected it had not seen such bustle in ages. Walking through the entrance was different to everywhere they had been before; people greeted them with hails and respect as opposed to wary glances. It was a pleasant change.

A party of heavily-armoured men greeted them just before they reached the bridge to the main encampment. Duncan, who had been in the middle of explaining where everything was based within the ruin, stopped midsentence at the sight.

"Duncan! Welcome back at last!" The youngest man of the group, dressed in what Lara thought was rather unnecessarily large gold-coloured armour, greeted them with a smile.

"Your Majesty, I did not expect such a welcome." Duncan nodded his head in respect to the king and Lara was quick to follow.

She had heard of him, young Cailan made king after his father had disappeared. To Lara, who was king had always mattered little. In the tower the Chantry and Templars ruled, not the monarch. She had certainly never imagined _meeting_ the king.

"Ha, of course I had to come welcome you when I heard you were near! You've missed a great deal in your time away," He laughed.

Lara hoped he would continue chatting with Duncan and ignore her. But her luck had been in short supply ever since passing her Harrowing. The king turned to smile at her and Lara tried to force her mouth into a smile in response.

"And who might you be?" He said.

Lara stood up a little straighter and met Cailan's curious gaze. "Lara Surana, o-" She cut herself off. She was not 'of the Circle Tower' any longer. "New Grey Warden recruit, Your Majesty."

"Ah, so this is the one you mentioned in your letter Duncan! I'm sure you'll be a fine asset to the Wardens, Lara Surana. We've already found all of the mages here extremely helpful." The young king seemed full of such enthusiasm that even just listening to him made Lara feel tired.

"I am not worthy of such high praise, Your Majesty." Responding to Cailan was easy, at least, not so different to speaking to templars back home.

_No, _she reprimanded herself silently, _the tower is not your home. _

"Don't be modest, you're very lucky to be part of the Wardens!" Cailan beamed at her and, finally, turned his attention back to Duncan. "But you're back just in time, I would have hated for you to miss us pushing the darkspawn back underground."

"I didn't realise things were going so well." Lara said, hardly aware she had voiced the thought out-loud until Cailan responded.

"I'm not sure this is even a true Blight. We've faced plenty of darkspawn certainly, but there's been no sign of an Archdemon."

"You sound disappointed, Your Majesty." Duncan said, and he was right. There was a definite air of longing in Cailan's tone when he spoke of a 'true Blight' that left Lara feeling uneasy.

"I had hoped for a battle like in the tales! The King of Ferelden marching to war with the Grey Wardens at his side." Cailan sighed wistfully and shrugged. "Ah, but I suppose the current victories will have to do."

_How old is this man? _Lara wondered. He seemed older than her for certain but he reminded her of Niall from back in the tower, who had loved stories of heroes and glory. _That _had all been fine and good, what mage trapped forever did not like a good adventure tale? But Cailan was the king, in charge of Ferelden's armies and he seemed no more than a boy with such grand ideas of war.

Perhaps she was being unfair. But by the apprehensive look on Duncan's face, she knew she was right to worry.

"Ah, but we shall speak later, Duncan. I must get back and allow Loghain to bore me some more with his precious strategies," Cailan laughed. "And welcome to Ostagar, Lara Surana! I'm certain I shall see you again another time."

Lara waited until Cailan and his brigade of guards were out of ear-shot to say. "He seems very sure of success."

Duncan sighed. "He has reason to be. Things have been going very well here."

_He is the king and at war with freakish monstrosities that crawl out of the ground. He has every reason __**not **__to be sure. _Lara kept the thought to herself and instead hummed non-committedly. "Yet you do not seem reassured."

Duncan shrugged and gestured for them to keep walking. "It is true there has been no sign of an Archdemon yet, but the hoard grows by the day. I _know_ this is a Blight but I cannot ask the King to act on my feeling alone."

"Why not? The king seems to think very highly of the Grey Wardens." Lara said, though 'highly' seemed the wrong word. More that the King thought of them as being the heroes the stories spoke of; as dashing and invincible and capable of anything.

"Not highly enough to wait for reinforcements." Duncan said with a weary sigh.

He did seem tired all of a sudden, as though nearly all of the energy that had filled him on the road was gone. She remembered his face in the dark of the tent, haggard and older than he appeared whilst up and animated. It seemed the sleepless nights were catching up with him.

"But come, you have a Joining to prepare for. There are two other initiates in the camp, Jory and Daveth, that you should meet. But first I need you to find Alistair, he's a new Grey Warden and he'll be seeing you through the preparation for your Joining."

Ah yes, the mysterious Joining. Lara was eager to see what it entailed. "Very well." Lara followed Duncan across the bridge, pausing only momentarily in the centre.

She was so high up here, the men in the valley below appeared like insects. How far she had come from being a girl screaming in a tower cell. Lara smiled a little at the thought and hurried after Duncan. Her heart still ached for Jowan but she felt better. Not exactly herself –but perhaps that was the point. She was not herself. She was a new self. And she would have to get used to that.

Duncan left her at the entrance to the camp with a gesture to where she would able to find him. The sheer amount of people crowded in the camp was unnerving to Lara, but she clutched her staff to ground herself and moved through it. Where to start looking for Alistair? What did he even look like? Too late, it occurred to her she should have asked Duncan that before they parted ways.

"Lara Surana, is that you?"

She froze at the all-too-familiar voice. Oh no. Not Senior Enchanter Wynne. Lara turned slowly to face her and repressed a grimace. She had hoped to avoid anyone connected with the Circle, especially a Senior Enchanter. What if Irving or Greagoir had sent a message telling all the mages what had gone on?

Lara eyed Wynne warily as she approached. Was she about to be told, once again, how much of a traitor she was? But Wynne did not seem angry at the sight of her. She seemed confused, if anything. Perhaps that was a good sign?

"Hello, Senior Enchanter." Lara said. "It is good to see you well." She meant that; although Lara had always had little to do with Wynne, she had no reason to wish the older woman harm.

Wynne smiled, though she was clearly still curious. "Are you here to join us mages in fighting the darkspawn? I take it this means congratulations are in order for passing your Harrowing."

Lara shrugged stiffly and gripped her staff tighter. She was wearing her plain shirt and breeches and she had hoped the fact that she was not wearing her Circle robes might speak for itself. No such luck, apparently.

"No, not exactly." At Wynne's frown she continued quickly. "I mean, thank you! I did pass my Harrowing. But I'm not here as part of the army. I'm to be a Grey Warden."

"Oh!" Wynne's frown turned to a smile. "Well, then I suppose further congratulations are in order. I know Irving always wanted great things for you."

"Yes." Lara forced a smile, deciding it was probably best to leave out the part where Irving had been about to allow her to face the Rite. "I, uh, hear things have been going well here?"

"Well enough, I suppose. I shall be glad to never see a darkspawn again," Wynne said with a weary laugh. "Have you faced any darkspawn in your travels here?"

Lara shook her head.

"Well, that means it's unlikely any have managed to travel north. I suppose that's something."

Lara needed to get moving before the conversation could turn back to the Circle. "Well, it was good to see you Senior Enchanter but I – oh, wait. Could you have a look at my foot for me?"

Though her foot had long since ceased to throb it was still painful and visibly swollen. Given that Wynne was a healer it seemed foolish to pass up the chance to have her injury looked at.

"Your…foot?" Wynne frowned at her.

"I injured it whilst leaving the tower."

"Ah, I see. That makes more sense then." Wynne said as Lara kicked off her shoe and pulled up the hem of her trousers. Her dark skin had gone a deep shade of purple and swollen up around her toes. "Maker's breath, what did you do?"

"I kicked a rock." Lara answered, embarrassed by it now more than anything.

"I dare not ask what infinite wisdom made you think that was a good idea." Wynne muttered.

Despite her sarcasm, she healed Lara's foot and left her able to walk without a twinge for the first time in what felt like forever. "Thank you, Senior Enchanter. I should be going now, good luck in the upcoming battle."

Wynne nodded. "Good luck to you as well."

Lara headed away from Wynne and the other mages to a higher part of the ruin. She still had no clue who she was looking for, perhaps she would have to ask? Someone was bound to know who he was, even in a camp as large as this.

"Yes, _I _was harassing you, by delivering a message."

Lara stopped. She had been on her way up to a higher point in the ruins when she heard the raised voice laced with obvious sarcasm and annoyance. The last thing she wanted to do was worsen an argument by being caught eavesdropping. But curiosity got the better of her and she crept upwards. A mage she recognized but could not name was arguing with someone in armour similar to Duncan's. Aha, a Grey Warden! Perhaps he could tell her who Alistair was. Better yet, perhaps he _was _Alistair.

No, she was probably not that lucky.

The mage said something too quiet for Lara to hear and began to march in her direction. She turned away, trying to look as though she had not been trying to listen. Clearly, whatever they had been talking about, it had not been friendly.

She turned back to the young man. His armour was similar to Duncan's with blue fabric, silver plate and small griffons on the chest-piece but his was less elaborate, presumably because Duncan was of a higher rank. The stranger was tall and athletic and looked about her age, fresh-faced with only a hint of stubble lining his jaw. And he was grinning at her.

"You'd make an awful sneak."

Lara blushed self-consciously and waved her staff in the air. "Lucky I'm not in that line of work then."

His smile dropped at the sight of her staff. "Oh, great. Another mage."

Her embarrassment snapped to suspicion at the irritated tone of his voice. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Yes, another mage. A problem, I take it?"

"Oh, not really. I just like to know my chances of being turned into a toad at any given moment."

She rolled her eyes at that ridiculous notion. "How many mages have you actually met that turn people into toads?"

"Uh, none. Though knowing my luck you'd be the first now that I've annoyed you!" He laughed sheepishly and took a step towards her.

"You haven't annoyed me." She said, surprised he had come to that assumption. He was strange, and his comment about toads had been irritating but she had skin too thick to be annoyed quite so quickly.

"Oh! Well, that's good." He smiled and dipped into a half-bow made awkward by his armour. "I'm Alistair, Junior member of the Grey Wardens. Who are you?"

Wonderful, so her fellow Grey Warden did not seem to care for mages. A great start. "Lara Surana, Grey Warden recruit."

His mouth dropped into a small 'o' of surprise that was almost enough to make up for his toad comment. Almost.

"Oh yes!" He said, trying to recover from his surprise. "Duncan said in his letter you were an elven mage, I'm a fool to have forgotten that. Though, I swear, I'd forget my own head if it weren't attached!"

Lara tilted her head at him. "You are aware that's not actually possible, yes?"

"Of course!" He laughed. "So, have you met the other initiates yet?"

She shook her head.

Alistair smiled widely at her. The expression reminded her of someone, though she could not place who. "Excellent, let's go find them then! I can make up for my blunders so far by introducing you."

He headed down the ramp that she had crept up minutes before and gestured for her to follow.

They found Daveth first. He was hanging around the Blacksmith with a decidedly cross looking female soldier who stomped off as soon as his attention was occupied elsewhere. He was young, though Lara thought he looked older than her, and handsome enough, if your type was scruffy and shemlen. Judging by his light-leather armour she guessed he was no giant-axe-wielding warrior either.

"Daveth!" Alistair called by way of greeting. "I have your fellow recruit here at last."

"Well, you're not what I thought you'd be." Daveth grinned as he looked her up and down quickly.

Lara scowled at him. Were all the men she met today destined to make terrible first impressions? "And what do you mean by that?"

"Well, I didn't think you'd be an elf. Or a woman, for that matter."

"Actually, now that you mention it I've not heard of there being any female Grey Wardens." Alistair added, a twinge of disappointment colouring his voice.

Lara took a deep, intended to be calming, breath. "Want more women in the Wardens, do you?"

"Would that be so terrible?" Alistair grinned at her and received a fierce scowl in return. "Ah, okay, no need to look at me like that! I'm not some drooling letch, I swear."

_Not a drooling letch but a fool, it seems. _Lara resisted the urge to hit both men with the top of her staff. "I'm Lara," she said to Daveth. "Now, where can we find Jory?"

She dared to hope Jory might prove to be a more promising sort. He seemed so at first; clearly older than the other two, balding and stocky and wearing heavy armour. A proper warrior, it seemed. Surely _he _would not care about her being a woman?

Her hopes were dashed the minute he opened his mouth. "Oh, you're the new recruit? I didn't think they allowed women in the Grey Wardens."

Lara's grip on her staff was so tight her knuckles were stiff from the strain. "And why did you think that?" She said, voice tight with irritation.

"I meant nothing by it!" He protested, though it was obvious he had. "It's just there are only men camped down in the valley."

She rolled her eyes and trailed away from them. She missed Jowan more than ever – he had barely seemed aware she _was _a girl.

"I think we made her angry." Daveth said.

Lara did not have the energy to correct them. _Not cross. Weary of the three of you already. _

She made her way back to Duncan with the three men traipsing along behind her. She could barely believe her poor luck. These three were to be her new allies as a Warden? If they could not fathom her being a woman or an elf, how were they going to react to her being a mage? Judging by Alistair's reaction, not well.

A weak whine dragged Lara out of her thoughts and she glanced down. They were passing the dog pens and inside the pen she was stood by was a Mabari. He was a soft brown in colour, covered in red war-paint and was staring at her with mournful eyes.

"Oh, hello." Lara said lamely. Weren't Mabari supposed to be intelligent? Was it foolish to talk to one?

"Ah, you've noticed our wounded friend." A man said from the pen next to her. "He's got sickness from biting the darkspawn."

Lara looked down at the sick dog and felt a tug of sympathy. "Is there anything that can be done?"

"Well, if you'd be interested I need someone to muzzle him."

"I, uh, don't really know anything about handling animals."

"There's nothing to it." The kennel master pulled a muzzle from the pack on his hip and held it up. "You just slip this part over his head and fasten the tie at the bottom of his jaw. You're the first person he's looked at all day, I think you stand a chance of doing it."

"And muzzling him will help?"

"He needs to be muzzled if I'm to apply medicine."

That was all the explanation Lara needed. She took the muzzle and waited for the kennel master to unlock the gate. Once inside, she knelt down before the dog and smiled hesitantly. "Hello."

The dog whined and shifted to face her. He did look sick, the poor thing, far more drawn and frail than a war hound should ever look.

"I'm Lara," she said, holding the muzzle out. "Is it alright if I put this on you? I'll be careful and it's only so you can have medicine."

The dog whined again but did not move away from her. Lara took that as a yes. She leant closer, gently slipping the muzzle over the dog's head and fastening the strap beneath his jaw. He growled weakly as she began to draw the muzzle closed and she froze. Sick or not, a Mabari could overwhelm her easily. But it seemed the growl was just one of complaint, not anger, and she finished fastening the muzzle without further problems.

"There you are. I hope you get better." She gave him a light scratch behind the ear. The mouser in the tower had liked that, according to Anders. And while a mouser was a far cry from a Mabari, this hound seemed pleased enough.

"Excellent!" The kennel-master smiled as he allowed her out of the pen. "That will make things much easier. I…" He glanced from Lara to the group of three that had followed her over. "Grey Wardens. I don't suppose you'll be going into the wilds anytime soon?"

Lara shrugged, "No idea. Why?"

"Well, if you're there, could you keep an eye out for a white flower with a red centre? I can use it in medicine for the hound, it's his best chance of making a recovery."

"Of course." If she could help the wounded hound, she would. She had never had a pet but animals were innocent creatures. This hound did not deserve to die because monsters had crawled out from the ground.

"So," Daveth began as they strolled away. "You can be nice to animals but not to us?" His tone suggesting he was teasing, but Lara was in no mood.

"The dog didn't seem bothered by my gender."

"We're sorry." Alistair said, stepping up to walk beside her. "I promise we're not all women-doubting pigs. Can we start again and try for friends?"

_The last friend I had betrayed me and left me to face the Rite of Tranquillity. _"You're all forgiven." She said instead and quickened her pace.

"Ah, good! Let's go find Duncan, you three have got a Joining to prepare for."

Lara closed her eyes and sighed. Ah yes, the Joining. She had a long day ahead of her. And with her current company, it would surely only feel longer.


End file.
